


i hate this fucking place

by orphan_account



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexuality, Coming of Age, Growing Up, Korean-American Character, M/M, Math, math nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-02-15 14:17:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13032939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Junhwe doesn’t really believe in love at first sight, but if he did, he thinks it would go like this:“Is anyone sitting there?” a boy asks, gesturing to the seat next to Junhwe and interrupting Junhwe’s train of thought. He’s kind of short and kind of cute, and the more Junhwe stares at him the more he realizes two things:1. This boy doesn’t just fit Junhwe’s ideal type--Junhwe doesn’t really have one, not really. In this moment, he is Junhwe’s ideal type, with his small frame and soft-looking hair tucked under a beanie. It’s sort of amazing and terrible, really.2. The cute boy is waiting for an answer, and if Junhwe doesn’t respond within the next five seconds he’ll probably never talk to the boy again. Fuck.(alternatively, junhwe stumbles his way into first love, and learns a lot about himself along the way)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have ~30k of this written if that's reassuring
> 
> disclaimer: this is 50% well-researched (if anecdotes also count as research) and 50% trash

Junhwe doesn’t really believe in love at first sight, but if he did, he thinks it would go like this:

 

Sixteen-year-old Junhwe Goo walks into the lecture hall for 6.006, also known as algorithms, also known as “a class that’s hard enough to actually require effort on your part” (thanks, Donghyuk), fifteen minutes early because he might be a little nervous. This class is normally reserved for sophomores (Donghyuk, of course, took it first semester of freshman year), and Junhwe feels nervous enough around a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, let alone a bunch of nineteen-year-olds. It’s not that he’s not smart enough, because he isn’t, nor that he doesn’t look old enough, because he’s starting to feel less awkward in his six-foot frame, but he just feels so out of place sometimes--

 

“Is anyone sitting there?” a boy asks, gesturing to the seat next to Junhwe and interrupting Junhwe’s train of thought. He’s kind of short and kind of cute, and the more Junhwe stares at him the more he realizes two things:

 

  1. This boy doesn’t just fit Junhwe’s ideal type--Junhwe doesn’t really have one, not really. In this moment, he _is_ Junhwe’s ideal type, with his small frame and soft-looking hair tucked under a beanie. It’s sort of amazing and terrible, really.
  2. The cute boy is waiting for an answer, and if Junhwe doesn’t respond within the next five seconds he’ll probably never talk to the boy again. Fuck.



 

“Yes,” Junhwe says, aware of how awkward he is as he rushes out his reply. “I mean--no. You can sit here.”

 

The boy smiles, a little tentatively. “I’m Jay, or Jinhwan,” he says. “I’m a Course 18 major.”

 

“Me too,” Junhwe says eagerly. “I mean, me too, I’m majoring in 18-C, not me too, my name’s Jinhwan because. My name’s not Jinhwan.”  _ Wow, that went wrong real fast, _ Junhwe thinks.

 

Jinhwan lets out a short, startled laugh that's cut off as quickly as it's let out, as if he's not sure whether he's allowed to laugh or not. “What’s your name, then?” he asks, amused. Junhwe’s just glad that Jinhwan thinks he’s funny, not weird.

 

“Junhwe,” he says. “Or, uh, June, I guess.”

 

“I’ve heard this class is hard,” Jinhwan remarks conversationally. “One of my friends had to take it twice.”

 

“Did they drop it or something then take it again?” Junhwe asks, internally grimacing. He’s heard of that happening from Donghyuk, and it sounds terrible.

 

Jinhwan nods, attention fixed to the front of the lecture hall, where the professor is starting to set up. “Ah, I think it’s about to start,” he says, giving Junhwe a grin. 

 

Junhwe just nods back at him, struck a little dumb by the power of Jinhwan’s smile. 

 

He spends the rest of class listening attentively, but more than once his eyes find themselves drifting to the profile of Jinhwan’s face, taking in the furrow of his eyebrows as he listens attentively and the way he bites his lips in thought once in awhile. Thankfully, Jinhwan himself is too focused on paying attention to notice the way Junhwe is obviously ogling him. Or maybe he’s just ignoring Junhwe.

 

Once the class ends, they both stand up to pack up their things. Junhwe silently makes note of their height difference; Jinhwan’s head comes up to his nose, and. It’s cute.

 

“It was, ah, nice to meet you,” Jinhwan says, turning to face him--Jinhwan has to look up to meet his eyes, and normally he hates making eye contact but it doesn’t feel so bad with Jinhwan--as they finish packing up.

 

“Uh, me too,” Junhwe replies. They stare at each other in silence for a couple of awkward moments, expectant as well as confused--the latter may just be Junhwe, though--until Jinhwan smiles, this time showing teeth, and it’s with the same kind of amusement he showed before class started.

 

“Okay,” Jinhwan says, turning to leave the seats that they’ve been standing in front of for the last couple of ( _ awkward, awkward _ ) minutes. “See you next week, June.” 

 

And that’s that. It’s kind of disappointing, really, the way that electric expectancy between them had fizzled to nothing.

  
  


Junhwe whines about all of it to Donghyuk, of course, his closest friend and roommate and fellow dropped-out-of-high-school-to-go-to-MIT asshole. People might think he’s one of those goody-two-shoes, with his thick black spectacles and sweet, angelic smile, but the truth is Donghyuk closer to hell than heaven. Junhwe prefers it that way, anyways.

 

“He’s so cute and short,” Junhwe says. He’s lying on Donghyuk’s bed, staring up at the ceiling dreamily, Donghyuk’s feet fidgeting in his lap to ruin the moment. Honestly, he can barely tolerate Donghyuk touching him for too long, but the last time he pushed Donghyuk away a little too roughly after a hug, they had gotten into a fight and Donghyuk had said,  _ Sometimes it feels like you don’t even enjoy being around me, you fuck, _ so--Junhwe continues barely tolerating. He’s kind of bad at showing his emotions, that way. “And I think he’s our age, like, he probably hasn’t even hit his growth spurt yet.”

 

“Hold on, hold on,” Donghyuk mumbles, typing furiously on his Mac. “I’m looking him up on Facebook. He said his name was Jinhwan? No last name?”

 

“Is it bad that I don’t want him to grow any taller?” Junhwe continues. He shifts his head so that Donghyuk’s on the peripheral edge of his vision. “No last name, but he’s obviously Korean, so--”

 

“Jinhwan Kim,” Donghyuk interrupts, scrolling through the Facebook page. He turns the laptop towards Junhwe--it’s a picture of Jinhwan and his mom, that’s pretty cute, except Junhwe kind of finds it creepy that he knows what Jinhwan’s mom looks like without having spoken to him more than once--and then says, “Holy shit, I think he’s friends with Yunhyeong?” 

 

The next couple of minutes consist of Donghyuk stating random facts about Jinhwan, everything from “I think blue is his favorite color” to “oh my God, he’s from  _ SoCal _ ”. It’s kind of weird to know so many things about him so quickly, and yeah, the more Junhwe thinks about it the more he doesn’t really want to Facebook stalk Jinhwan, especially not from Donghyuk’s account. 

 

“Donghyuk, maybe you should stop stalking him,” Junhwe says.

 

Donghyuk merely huffs. “I’m only trying to help,” he says. “I can probably text Yunhyeong for info, too, this is so great--”

 

“Bro,” Junhwe interrupts, shutting his eyes. “I don’t wanna know anymore about Jinhwan than I already do, you know? It feels--it feels weird.”

 

“My dude,” Donghyuk protests. “I was going to use this as an excuse to text Yunhyeong!” Yunhyeong being the newest crush of Donghyuk’s, a kind and mostly easy-going sophomore; whenever Donghyuk does like someone, he tends to fall out of it within a couple of months, so Junhwe doesn’t have too much sympathy.

 

“Text him if you want,” Junhwe agrees indulgently. Whatever. “Just don’t tell me anything. And don’t--” his eyes open in fear, and he scrambles to sit up, Donghyuk’s legs falling out of his lap. “Don’t mention my name, you ass.”

 

“Of course not,” Donghyuk remarks off-handedly, now focused on the phone in his hands. 

 

Junhwe lies back down and contemplates his failures in life for a couple of moments before Donghyuk breaks the silence.

 

“Apparently Jinhwan takes an English class every semester, he’s that into reading books,” Donghyuk notes. “Interesting.”

 

Junhwe knees one of Donghyuk’s legs. “Stop it,” he orders, half of him wanting Donghyuk to obey and half of him wanting Donghyuk to keep telling him random things about Jinhwan.

 

“You said you thought he was our age? Well, his birthday is--” Junhwe kicks him again, more insistently. “Okay, okay,” Donghyuk says, admitting defeat. “I’ll stop.”

 

“I can’t wait to see him again,” Junhwe says. “It feels incredible but also really fucking… terrible, at the same time?”

 

“Ah, young love,” Donghyuk intones, batting his eyelashes to the heavens for dramatic effect. “It sure is a riot.” They contemplate this for a couple of seconds.

 

“Check the bathroom server for me, will you?” Junhwe asks. One of the perks of dorming at Random Hall--besides the terrible, wonderful wall of math problems that distracts Junhwe every time he walks past it--are the bathroom and laundry websites, which monitor occupancies.

“Destiny K is open,” Donghyuk says, sounding bored. “Has been for the past forty-seven minutes.”

 

“Okay,” Junhwe replies, swinging Donghyuk’s feet off his body and making his way down the hall, repeating  _ Jinhwan Kim Jinhwan Kim Jinhwan Kim _ in a steady rhythm that matches the pace of his feet.

  
  


The next time he sees Jinhwan is about five days too early and Junhwe is not prepared. It’s another Friday HMMT problem-writing meeting, one of the last ones before the tournament in February, and everyone’s buzzing around excitedly and proofreading problems. They’re gathered in a lecture hall, and most people are spread out in two- or three-person clusters.

 

Junhwe’s especially good at finding loopholes in the geo problems, and he’s plotting a diagram for a proof-based geometry problem on Geogebra when Jinhwan walks up to him, laptop in his hands and another beanie on his head.

 

“Hey, June,” he says. “It’s, ah, nice to see you here.” 

 

Junhwe startles so violently his laptop nearly falls out of his lap. “Oh, hey,” he says, trying to be casual and failing miserably. All of his systems are blaring alarms on the highest alert, and he kind of wants to run away, but then Jinhwan sits down next to him. Jinhwan’s also looking at him with this wonderful, amused expression, as if he can’t decide whether to laugh at him or not, and it’s really endearing. “I didn’t--uh, I didn’t know you’re a problem writer too!”

 

Jinhwan laughs, then bites his lip. “I’m not problem writing,” he explains, seeming a little sheepish. “One of my, ah, friends wanted me to write up the solutions for him and proofread some questions.”

 

“Who’s your friend?” Junhwe asks, curious.

 

“Hanbin? Hanbin Kim?” Jinhwan says. “He’s really smart, skipped senior year of high school, but, ah,” he chuckles, “his proof-writing style is horrible.”

 

“Yeah, I know him,” Junhwe says off-handedly. He looks back at his Geogebra diagram, and messes around with a couple of the points. “He’s kinda crazy.” He looks up from his computer to see Jinhwan frowning, and freaks out a little. It always takes him a bit of time to remember to shut his goddamn mouth. “I mean, he’s way more into the problem writing stuff and competition math than I am, I mean, I, uh, just wrote, like, two problems?” 

 

Jinhwan nods. “I get what you’re saying.” He leans closer to Junhwe, peering over his shoulder. Junhwe tries to ignore their close proximity to each other; it’s a little bit like ignoring being hit by a train. “So what are you working on?”

 

“Not much,” Junhwe says, turning his laptop so that it faces both of them at a better angle. “I just need to test-solve this to make sure there isn’t, like, a degenerate triangle or something anywhere.”

 

Jinhwan looks on as he continues plotting the diagram, fascinated. “This is so cool,” he says, his fingers tapping against his mouth in thought. “The circles automatically correct for changing the lengths, that’s--wow.”

 

Junhwe laughs. “You’ve never used Geogebra before?” he asks. “But, uh, yeah, everything is expressed in terms of the segments as opposed to, like, a numerical value, so it’s flexible.”

 

“I like number theory a lot better than geo,” Jinhwan admits. “Besides, I didn’t do too much competition math in high school. I, ah, liked research math a lot better.”

 

Math research takes a whole lot more patience than Junhwe is willing to have. He’s impressed. “Really?” he asks. “What topics?”

 

Conversation flows easily after that, little comments as they work on their respective tasks for the upcoming math tournament. Before he knows it, Junhwe’s spent two hours working side-by-side with Jinhwan, and feels a lot more comfortable with him despite their awkward first meeting. It’s just--it isn’t hard, with Jinhwan, not in the same way Junhwe has to forcibly remind himself to stop being so distancing, to stop being so awkward with other people. Jinhwan draws Junhwe to him; it’s magnetic.

  
  


Next week’s algorithms lecture begins well enough. Jinhwan sits next to Junhwe again, and they manage to make conversation before class starts. They spend the rest of lecture mostly paying attention, every couple of minutes punctuated by a whispered remark. It’s fun, almost as fun as the useless poetry class Junhwe had taken last semester with Donghyuk. The more time he spends with Jinhwan, the more he likes him; it’s as if his feelings are expanding exponentially, like fractals, outwards and outwards.

 

They pack up in silence, and Junhwe finishes up first. After a couple moments of standing there awkwardly, he’s about to leave when a small hand grabs his arm. 

 

“Wait for me, June,” Jinhwan says, smiling. It’s like being slapped in the face, except it feels really fucking good. Maybe he's just a masochist. 

 

“Oh--uh, okay,” Junhwe says, trying to not sound as relieved as he feels. 

 

By the time they’ve made their way out of the lecture hall, Junhwe’s on the topic of dining halls. 

 

“The food’s pretty good, but it gets kinda repetitive,” Junhwe says. “It’s cool that you’re not on the meal plan.”

 

Jinhwan shrugs and stops in his tracks in the lobby of Building XX, Junhwe following. “It’s not as bad as some other colleges,” he says. “I had to dorm at BU for PROMYS, ah, three summers in a row, and the food there is way worse than what you’re getting here.”

 

“Oh, PROMYS?” Junhwe nods. “That’s so cool, though, you got to stay in Boston for the summer.” One of my friends went to PROMYS, he’s about to add, but he’s not exactly sure about the friend part.

 

“It was a lot of fun,” Jinhwan says. “I actually got to know the city pretty well, and all.”

 

“That’s like the opposite of me,” Junhwe says. “I live, uh, about thirty minutes from Boston but don’t really know shit about where anything is.”

 

Jinhwan gives him a look, then says, meaningfully, “Maybe I should show you around some time.”

 

Wow. Junhwe is so not prepared for this. “Uh, okay.”

 

“Also,” Jinhwan continues, “You should come over for dinner sometime if you get too bored of dorm food. Me and my roommates usually take turns bringing takeout or cooking, but, ah, I’m pretty sure we can spare a plate.” He has to look up to talk, but he’s still leaning in close to Junhwe. It’s really nice.

 

“You’re so lucky,” Junhwe says. “I don’t even know how to cook.”

 

Jinhwan smiles at that. “You should learn, soon,” he says. “Otherwise you’ll just be eating takeout for your entire summer internship.”

 

Junhwe winces at that. “I’m honestly more worried about finding an apartment,” he admits. This is where he should’ve kept his mouth shut. “Especially since I’m, uh, still a minor.”

 

Jinhwan’s smile slips for the first time during this conversation. “You’re not eighteen?” he asks, confused.

 

Honesty is always the best option, right? “Uh, I’m actually sixteen.” It comes out squeaky like the pubescent boy he is, and Junhwe wants to add  _ I’m almost seventeen _ , like the child he must seem like. He fidgets uncomfortably as Jinhwan leans away, surprise coloring his features. 

 

“No way,” he says, eyeing Junhwe up and down appraisingly and taking a step back. “I, ah, I had no idea.” 

 

“Aren’t you Hanbin’s age?” Junhwe ventures curiously. Jinhwan bites down on his bottom lip before shaking his head. 

 

“I’m actually, ah, about two years older than Hanbin.” They stare at each other in silence for a couple of exceedingly awkward moments before Jinhwan hesitantly smiles.

 

“You’re--you’re twenty?” Junhwe makes out. And,  _ oh _ . He never really contemplated the possibility that Jinhwan might just be really fucking short.

 

“Nineteen,” Jinhwan says. He’s smiling, but Junhwe gets the sense that he’s doing this more out of a defense mechanism--the way Junhwe’s been evolutionarily programmed to ramble when he panics--than anything else.

 

“I thought you had a couple more inches to grow,” Junhwe says mournfully, regretting his words as soon as they come out of his mouth. He feels very, very dumb; it isn’t something he’s used to.

 

Jinhwan winces. “That, ah, isn’t the first time I’ve heard that,” he says. His fingers tap along the tops of his knees agitatedly.

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Junhwe rushes out. Jinhwan looks even more troubled than before. “I mean, uh, that is what I meant, but also, it isn’t like, uh, your height is a bad thing or anything, actually--it’s, it’s quite nice,” he finishes feebly.

 

Jinhwan laughs, an actual laugh this time, musical and soft. “Okay,” he agrees. “So you’re, what, three years younger than me?”

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe says. He gets the sense that something has changed between them during the past couple of minutes, but he can’t quite his finger on what it is. 

 

“You can call me hyung,” Jinhwan offers. His eyes dart away from Junhwe, unsure. “I mean, if you want to--ah, I’d really like it.” 

 

Junhwe hesitates. His family is definitely more Americanized than traditional, and the last time he's called someone hyung or noona like that was probably over a decade ago. 

 

"Sure, hyung," Junhwe says, a little unsure, and Jinhwan visibly brightens. God, Jinhwan's just so cute and small, and even though Junhwe can see his actual age now that he knows it, there's something about him that seems so-- _ young _ . “Your family traditional or something?”

 

“Something,” Jinhwan answers. “I was actually, ah, born in Korea--I moved here in elementary school--so I’m more used to that.” They stand there in awkward silence for a couple of seconds before Jinhwan checks the time on the screen of his phone.

 

“Ah, I should get going,” he says.

 

“Me too,” Junhwe agrees hurriedly, following Jinhwan to the exit. He’s still a little shook, a little surprised. 

 

"So where are you off to?" Jinhwan says, pushing through the doors to step into the chilly winter air. He shivers. "Ah, it's cold out."

 

"I'm probably just gonna study at the library," Junhwe says. Just thinking about the Algorithms p-set is already giving him stress. "My roommate’ll probably drag me to the dining hall later."

 

"Hm," Jinhwan nods. "We should study together sometime--this class really is no joke."

 

"That sounds great." Junhwe tacks on, "Hyung."

 

Jinhwan seems to preen at that, and it's enough to distract him for a couple of seconds before a gust of wind threatens to knock him over.

 

"Oh, shit," Jinhwan laughs with another visible shiver, and Junhwe wants more than anything else to wrap his arms around his small body. He’s wearing an oversized coat that he’s practically drowning in, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much for him. "I better get going, June," Jinhwan reaches up to Junhwe’s head, standing on tiptoes, and ruffles his hair, an action that makes him feel both happy and indignant. "I'll see you sometime with this week for dinner, I swear."

 

"Alright, hyung," Junhwe replies. He feels so strange--excited at the prospect of having dinner with Jinhwan, dread at the way his behavior had changed once he knew Junhwe’s age, and afraid of messing things up.

 

"See you later," Jinhwan says, turning to leave. Junhwe watches as his tiny figure fades into the distance.

 

Junhwe sets off in the opposite direction, trembling in the cold. He didn't notice it earlier, but his thin sweatshirt really is no match for the New England weather.

  
  


“How could you, Donghyuk,” Junhwe growls as imposingly as he can from where he’s seated on the floor of their dorm room. He looks down at his left foot--which is now finished, his toenails covered in clear nail polish--and wiggles his toes, antsy. Junhwe’s been antsy all day, really, just because of Jinhwan and the way he’d kind of fucked up that second meeting. Painting his toenails--which (thankfully) aren’t really visible during the peak stress months of winter--is the best way to get his mind off of something, but somehow Jinhwan’s sticking to his mind the way IMO and USACO never had. Go figure.

 

Donghyuk makes a face, confused, as he enters the room. “What’re you talking about, man?” he asks.

 

“You know what,” Junhwe says sullenly to his feet. “You told me that Jinhwan had an older sister, and you told me that Jinhwan likes to sing in an acapella group, and you told me a bunch of other useless bullshit--” he takes a breath here, aware that he’s rambling “--but you couldn’t find the time to tell me he’s nineteen?”

 

Donghyuk’s face drops. “I thought it’d be funny,” he says, pouting. 

 

“First off, he’s three years older than me,” Junhwe says dully. “That’s not funny, it’s--it’s like me liking some thirteen year old girl or something, how the hell is he so  _ old. _ ” He pauses, growing more pessimistic with every passing second. “He probably thinks I’m an immature child.” 

 

“Hey, look at the bright side--at least you aren’t a thirteen year old girl,” Donghyuk points out, very helpfully. 

 

“Right now, that’s about the only thing I’ve got going for me,” Junhwe replies. He’s definitely not pouting at his feet. Definitely not.

 

“I thought--what happened with him?” Donghyuk asks, actually starting to show concern. He’s a pretty good friend when he needs to be. “Come on, tell me.”

 

“I fucked up, that’s what.” Junhwe works through his right foot methodically as he recounts the story, but he gets distracted enough during the retelling to mess up on his second toe.  _ Fuck it, _ he thinks with dismay. 

 

“You know…” Donghyuk begins slowly, once Junhwe’s been through the whole Sob Story, “That doesn’t sound that bad. Aside from the height faux pas, of course.” He adjusts his glasses in his usual slightly-nerdy way, and combined with the use of phrases like  _ faux pas _ , Donghyuk sounds every bit the private-schooled rich brat he is.

 

“It sounds as bad as my English grade in sophomore year,” Junhwe says, staring at his toes. They’re slightly boney and kind of ugly to look at. “Did I ever tell you about how I needed to go to--”

 

“--summer school, because you were absent so much from going to international olympiads?” Donghyuk finishes for him. “Yes, you did. Also, you’ve already--what the hell,” he screeches, annoyingly high-pitched.

 

This time, Junhwe messes up on his fourth toe. “What the fuck, I almost had a heart attack,” he says, glaring up at Donghyuk. 

 

Donghyuk merely holds up Junhwe’s phone from where it’s connected to the wall charger. 

 

“‘Jinhwan (Jay) Kim has sent you a Facebook friend request,’” Donghyuk reads from the phone screen, grinning. “I’d say you didn’t do so bad, huh?”

 

Junhwe scrambles up to his feet and over to where Donghyuk’s holding his phone, messing up his fifth toe in the process. Yes, it isn’t a hoax, Jinhwan Kim friend-requested him on Facebook--which normally wouldn’t be such a big deal for Junhwe, as he really only uses the Messenger app for the HMMT group chat--but this also means he has the implicit permission to actually take a good look at Jinhwan’s profile.

 

Apparently Jinhwan is actually from southern California, something that’s both expected and kind of funny; if Junhwe had to, he would’ve guessed New Jersey or something. There’s some posts with Jinhwan’s family, a picture with Yunhyeong and Hanbin, a couple more with Hanbin and that annoying Jiwon kid from MOP, and oh, some acapella performances. Junhwe clicks through the Logarhythms Youtube channel, fascinated by Jinhwan singing, even if it’s just backup vocals. He’s so into it, so lively and happy to be performing, and it’s--really cool.

 

Donghyuk soon tires of watching Junhwe scroll through Jinhwan’s Facebook, so thankfully he’s left to watch the videos in peace.

 

He’s in the middle of his 20th replay of the Logarhythms covering “Man in the Mirror” by Michael Jackson  _ (legend) _ when he sees a notification popping up on his messaging app. From Jinhwan. He stares at it for a couple of seconds, wondering if he’s hallucinating or if he accidentally second-hand smoked weed or something.

 

jinhwan: hi june, i was wondering if you’d wanna join me & roommates for dinner on fri

jinhwan: i think one of them knows of you?? haha

 

“Oh my God,” Junhwe says, staring down at his phone in shock. “Donghyuk, he asked if I wanted to join him for dinner with his roommates.”

 

Donghyuk leans over and peers down at the phone. “Say yes, you ass. You’ve left him on read for, like, five minutes.”

 

“Because I am in  _ shock, _ ” Junhwe asserts. Clumsily, he types out a response. He can vaguely make out Donghyuk muttering  _ what a terrible person to text _ , which is offensive considering Donghyuk’s messages usually consist of  _ lol _ s and random emojis.

 

junhwe: that sounds great hyung

 

Junhwe’s about to add along his usual dopey “thanks,,” but deletes the commas before sending. It’s best if Jinhwan doesn’t think he’s weird, at least in the beginning.

 

He sighs and replays the video for the 21st time, anticipating the beauty that is Jinhwan’s high notes.

  
  


Dinner at Jinhwan's dorm--Burton Conner, suite 212--is both better and worse than he expected. It's better because Junhwe's used to being socially inept, and getting along with Hanbin and Yunhyeong is easy. It's worse, because, well.

 

"You didn't mention you were roommates with _ Jiwon Kim _ ," Junhwe spits out, alarmed, when Jiwon tries to crowd him in with a hug as soon as he steps inside the damn dorm. Jinhwan shrugs sympathetically, but his lips are twitching with contained laughter.  

 

"It's Bobby here, don't you know?" Jiwon grins. Junhwe pushes him away, visibly recoiling. "My IMO-winning days are long behind me." Jiwon had been the bane of Junhwe’s life during MOP, honestly, always hanging around him and annoying him and making fun of Junhwe’s appearance during the time Junhwe had a face of stress-induced acne and was too clumsy and insecure in his tall frame.

 

"Thank God for that," Junhwe mutters under his breath. Bobby moves away from him ( _ finally _ ), before moseying up behind Jinhwan and giving him a back hug ( _ the fuck? _ ). Junhwe tries not to look too resentful, but he's pretty sure he just comes off as constipated.

 

"I didn't know you knew Bobby," Jinhwan says, smiling as if Bobby's arms aren't around his waist. Gently, he removes Bobby from his back the way one would pry a koala from a tree. "Go talk to Hanbin," he orders. Bobby obeys, walking into one of the adjacent bedrooms.

 

Junhwe scowls, because no amount of protesting has ever really gotten Jiwon off his back before. "He used his Korean name at MOP," Junhwe says. "And he's annoying as fuck." He sort of belatedly realizes that Jinhwan's probably friends with Bobby, something that is both unfathomable yet all too predictable. Jiwon's a lucky bastard. "I mean, he's really… cheerful. And touchy."  _ And I am neither of these things, _ he adds silently.

 

"Ah, I see," Jinhwan says. "It's okay, I know he's kind of overwhelming. So," he says, gesturing around him, "Do you want a tour of this place?"

 

The tour really doesn't take too long. It's suite-style, so there's a bedroom that Bobby shares with Hanbin, a bedroom that Jinhwan shares with Yunhyeong, and a bathroom that are all connected to a living area and kitchen.

 

"I'm on dinner duty today, actually," Jinhwan says once the tour is finished. "Want to help?"

 

"Wow, I see how it is, hyung," Junhwe says with a fake pout. "You invite me over just to make me do all the work."

 

Jinhwan laughs at that, shaking his head ruefully. "Such a lazy kid," he scolds teasingly, before turning towards one of the cabinets and pulling out an apron. "Can you at least set the table?"

 

"Yeah, sure," Junhwe says, mouth a little dry. Jinhwan wearing an apron is probably the one of the cutest things he's ever seen, second to Jinhwan wearing that oversized Older College Boyfriend coat. And fuck, now his mind's on the possibility of Jinhwan having an Older College Boyfriend.  _ Bad thoughts, bad thoughts. _ Maybe he should set the table.

 

Apparently Jinhwan was already cooking before Junhwe arrived, so dinner's ready in a matter of minutes. Everything smells delicious and Junhwe is so ready to eat (eating is second to maybe only math, honestly), even if he misses the sight of Jinhwan walking around in that fucking apron.

 

"Guys," Jinhwan calls. "Dinner's ready!"

 

Yunhyeong, Hanbin, and Bobby file in one by one, taking their spots at the table. It's a square table, meant for four, but Junhwe makes do by crowding in between Bobby and Jinhwan and trying to sit as far away from Bobby as possible. Of course, this also means that Jinhwan's practically sitting in his lap, but it's not like Junhwe  _ minds _ .

 

"This is Junhwe, he's in 6.006 with me," Jinhwan says, taking the serving spoon and pointing it at his roommates. "Now introduce yourselves."

 

"Jeez, hyung," Hanbin says, and, okay. Junhwe thought that the hyung thing was special, but of course everyone calls Jinhwan _hyung_. Of course. "We kinda already know him."

 

"Really?" Jinhwan asks, surprised. He turns to Junhwe for confirmation, as if surprised that he actually had the ability to go out into the world and meet people. Junhwe's surprised too, honestly.

 

He shrugs.

 

"I mean," Bobby starts, "I met this lil brat at MOP when he was trying to get onto the US IMO team."

 

"I wasn't  _ trying _ ," Junhwe responds, despite his resolution to ignore Bobby completely. "I actually made the team, you know." He's about to say more--something scathing like  _ At least I didn’t use my Korean citizenship to game the system and still go to IMO even though you’re from fucking SoCal _ \--when Hanbin cuts him off.

 

"He does HMMT problem writing with me," Hanbin says, raising his hand up for a fist bump. Junhwe returns it half-heartedly. "This kid's an ass, but," Hanbin shrugs affectionately, "He's a geo god."

 

Jinhwan watches all of this in half-stricken silence, until he turns to Yunhyeong. "How do you know Junhwe?"

 

_ NO, _ Junhwe mouths at Yunhyeong.  _ DON'T TELL HIM. _ Yunhyeong must not get the message, though, because he smiles and says, "He took the Bollywood gym class with me and Donghyuk, I believe."

 

Bobby, predictably, is falling over in a fit of silent laughter. Hanbin chokes on the bite of rice that's in his mouth--wait, Junhwe realizes belatedly, how did he get the rice already if Jinhwan’s holding the serving spoon?--while Yunhyeong slaps him through it overenthusiastically.

 

Jinhwan merely looks at him, mirth glimmering in his eyes. "BollyX, hm? How was it?"

 

"Uh," Junhwe says. It had been both hilarious and mortifying, respectively, to watch Donghyuk and Yunhyeong dance and to try to sway his own (nonexistent) hips to the rhythm of Indian music. "It was pretty fun, actually." He's uncomfortably aware of the fact that Bobby is still laughing, so he adds, defensively, "Donghyuk signed me up because he wanted to pick up girls."

 

Or, one girl specifically, someone short and cute and Indian who had joined MIT's bhangra dance troupe. Apparently learning Bollywood dancing was supposed to help him win her over, even though Donghyuk was sixteen and kind of bad at talking to girls (Junhwe, being the nice best friend he was, refrained from pointing this out). Junhwe can't even remember her name, as she dropped out of MIT Bhangra three weeks later and Donghyuk had promptly started obsessing over Yunhyeong anyway.

 

Jinhwan and Yunhyeong are sending each other looks across the table. Bobby and Hanbin have finally, finally stopped laughing, and are instead listening intently to the conversation.

 

"Picking up girls?" Yunhyeong asks hesitantly. He looks kind of crushed, actually, and huh. Maybe Donghyuk's thing for Yunhyeong isn't actually one-sided.

 

"Just one girl, really," Junhwe says weakly. "He kind of lost interest after a couple of days, anyway."

 

Yunhyeong looks significantly more relieved. "Tell him I say hi," he says. "I haven't actually seen him since before winter break."

 

_ Believe me, I know, _ Junhwe wants to say. Instead he shrugs, turning to Jinhwan. "Can we have food now, hyung?"

 

Hanbin and Bobby have already started eating, but Junhwe forces himself to wait patiently as Jinhwan spoons food onto his plate. It's kind of nice, honestly. Makes him feel like he's being doted on.

 

"You should eat a lot," Jinhwan says. "You're probably still growing, aren't you?" He eyes Junhwe's frame with a hint of envy, before smiling indulgently at Junhwe. “I’m a little jealous.”

 

"You're perfect the way you are, hyung," Hanbin says, as if he can read Junhwe's mind, word for word.

 

"Our tiny Jinani," Bobby coos. Junhwe takes his first bite in an effort to stop himself from gagging, and has to suppress a moan.

 

"This is delicious," he says, kind of forgetting that there's still food in his mouth.

 

Jinhwan blushes faintly at that, which is pretty odd considering he hadn't batted an eyelash at Hanbin's "you're perfect just the way you are" cheesiness. "You shouldn't talk with your mouth full, June."

 

Yunhyeong raises an eyebrow at that. "June?" he repeats, disbelievingly.

 

"That's his nickname," Jinhwan says proudly, happy to know something the others don't. "Right, June?"

 

Junhwe's about to nod and say  _ yeah, hyung _ \--he’s too distracted by the food to articulate much else--when Bobby cuts in with a laugh. "It's his American name, hyung, not an actual nickname."

 

"It would be like calling you Jay," Hanbin adds, wrinkling his nose.

 

"Or calling Hanbin Bin," Bobby says, turning towards Hanbin. "Wait, that actually isn't that bad."

 

Jinhwan turns his eyes to Junhwe imploringly, pouting. "Is that true, Junhwe?" All of a sudden, his full name sounds weird on Jinhwan's tongue.

 

"It could be both?" Junhwe tries. "I mean, yeah, it's easier to pronounce, but I don't mind it."

 

Jinhwan beams at Junhwe, Yunhyeong's still sneaking questioning glances at the two of them, Hanbin's still sneaking food off of Bobby's plate, and Bobby's doing this weird dance with his eyebrows that probably means something Junhwe's too tired to interpret. Instead he lets Jinhwan start up the conversation again, this time just about random coursework and preparation for the HMMT February tournament, finishing the rest of dinner in relative peace (Bobby's still making eyebrows at him every couple minutes or so) and happiness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donghyuk smiles deviously. “Actually…” he begins, looking slightly devious behind his spectacles. “Junhwe used to be part of the chorus in Lexington, right?”
> 
> Junhwe winces. He regrets telling Donghyuk anything about his life, ever. “That was only for the art credit, you ass.”
> 
> Donghyuk shrugs. “Something seems fishy,” he teases. “You didn’t even graduate high school, so why give a shit about the art credits?”
> 
> “EXPOSED!” Bobby howls. Yunhyeong high-fives Donghyuk proudly, and the rest of them laugh, Junhwe joining in with them sheepishly.
> 
> (alternatively, february hmmt and yunhyeong and jinhwan's birthdays occur)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this should give a bit more background on the characters imo/flesh out things a bit more, it's a long chapter but idk i separate things more by emotional arcs than by length
> 
> lemme know what you think~~
> 
> btw, just look up any confusing acronyms :D they're mostly math related stuff

Maybe Junhwe should have expected this. At any rate, he’s not exactly  _ surprised  _ when Bobby ambushes him out of nowhere after his English class. Well, okay, maybe he yells a little when Bobby screams “boo!” in his ear. 

 

Either way, he’s a bit more than a little pissed off.

 

“What the hell, Jiwon,” Junhwe says, still spooked. “You can’t just--” he gestures agitatedly in the air “--appear out of nowhere like that! What the fuck.”

 

Bobby, of course, is grinning up at Junhwe. It’s a nice feeling, having a couple inches on Bobby, and it’s almost enough to make Junhwe feel a little less pissed off for the moment. 

 

“What do you say we go out for some coffee?” Bobby asks, throwing an arm around Junhwe’s shoulders and steering them towards the door. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually.” 

 

Junhwe struggles out of his hold and pushes him away. “Fine,” he agrees uneasily, because the look on Bobby’s face is pretty serious--a fairly rare occurrence, given what Junhwe knows of him.. “But on two conditions.”

 

“Lemme hear it,” Bobby says, more amused than anything else. It’s so annoying, how Bobby always, always has the upper ground.

 

“One, you have to stop touching me,” Junhwe says, “and two, you’re paying.”

 

Bobby shrugs. “Sure, why not.”

  
  


Bobby pushes open the doors of the nearest coffee shop, which turns out to be the Starbucks that’s merely two blocks away. Junhwe is kind of thankful for that; sure, there are tons of “artisanal” coffee spots around Cambridge for the snobby intellectual types, but his taste in caffeine is a lot more… basic. In every sense of the word.

 

Bobby mock-bows as he holds the door open for Junhwe. “After you, milady,” he intones.

 

Junhwe scowls back half-heartedly, then turns to survey the menu. His usual is a Double Chocolate Chip Frappucino, but he debates as to whether he should change his order to avoid shit from Bobby. Then he decides that it ultimately doesn’t matter. No matter what, Junhwe’s going to get shit from Bobby anyway.

 

He expects Bobby to snigger at him when he orders, but Bobby ends up ordering a frappuccino as well. “What can I say,” Bobby says in reply to Junhwe’s questioning glance. “You go to a white girl shop, might as well get the white girl drinks.”

 

Junhwe slaps Bobby’s arm in surprise. “You’re so rude, people have ears,” he hisses. “Especially since the whole place is like seventy percent--” he looks around furtively, to make sure no one’s watching them “--white girl.”

 

Bobby laughs.

 

“You know,” Junhwe admits, once they’ve gotten their drinks and are sipping away at a small side-table, “I thought you’d be the type to freeload off of other people, not,” he gestures towards his drink, “pay for all of this.”

 

Bobby seems pleased, running a hand through his hair and grinning. “You got me there,” he admits, chuckling. “But just because I usually freeload off of Jinhwan-hyung doesn’t mean I can’t be a good hyung to my adorable little brat of a dongsaeng.” 

 

“Shut up,  _ Robert, _ ” Junhwe replies. Bobby merely grins in response.

 

“But really, I think we both know why I want to talk,” Bobby says. “Not that we aren’t the best of buds or anything, but,” he shrugs. “You were actually doing pretty well avoiding me on campus.”

 

“You want to talk to me about Jinhwan,” Junhwe realizes, somewhat stupidly.

 

“You’re a little slow when it isn’t an equation, huh?” Bobby muses. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

 

Junhwe would protest, but even he has the emotional capacity to admit that yeah, he’s bad with feelings.

 

“Jinhwan-hyung is a special person,” Bobby says, looking down at his hands. It’s odd to see him so serious, so sombre. “He’s--he really took care of me and Hanbin when we were younger, so when he went to MIT we followed a year later. We couldn’t,” Bobby swallows dryly, “I honestly think we wouldn’t be able to live without him.”

 

“That’s very touching,” Junhwe says tonelessly. Bobby’s reiterating things he already knows, mainly that a) Jinhwan is an amazing person and b) Hanbin and Bobby love him a lot.

 

“Lemme make my point, will you?” Bobby says testily. “It’s not too obvious to most people because you’ve got that,” he gestures towards his face, “resting bitch face, but I know you like him.”

 

Junhwe’s face feels like it’s on fire. Sure, he’s talked about it before multiple times with Donghyuk, but there’s a difference between talking about your crush with your best friend and talking about your crush with Bobby- _ freaking _ -Kim.

 

“So what if I do?” Junhwe says, petulant. “It’s not like anything will come out of it.”

 

“Here’s the thing,” Bobby sighs. “Something might.” He pauses, contemplating his words. “You know, a love between two people is like growing a plant.”

 

“A plant?” Junhwe echoes dubiously. He’s not sure he follows.

 

“You must foster proper growth from the start,” Bobby says wisely. “Otherwise the seeds of love,” he clutches his chest for dramatic effect, “will grow to form a stunted, ugly little thing.”

 

Junhwe just stares at Bobby for several moments. 

 

“Okay,” Bobby waves off, “Maybe you’re just bad with metaphors. You’re a math kid, I get it. Basically, the gist of what I’m saying is that you need to wait and grow the fuck up. You’re a kid and you’re young and--” he breaks off, shaking his head. “I know kids like you, because Hanbin’s like that and I was one of them. We just keep on rushing forward, on and on and on, so eager to get to the next thing, and,” Bobby takes a breath, “I’m just sayin’ to give it some time, okay? Jinhwan still thinks you’re a kid because you are one, Jesus.”

 

“Oh...kay,” Junhwe says slowly. He’s more bewildered than anything else.

 

“Also, keep hanging out with us,” Bobby adds. “I like that Donghyuk kid too, Yunhyeong and Hanbin know him and he seems pretty chill.”

 

“To strangers, maybe,” Junhwe says, rolling his eyes. “He has no chill whatsoever, honestly.”

 

“Oh, really? Tell him to meet us at the my dorm in, say, about fifteen minutes.” Bobby grins. “It’ll be good to get to know him outside of whatever Hanbin and Yunhyeong have said.”

 

“I have p-sets to do, you ass,” Junhwe says, but otherwise doesn’t protest as he follows Bobby obediently out of the cafe.

 

“So what are we doing?” Junhwe asks. 

 

“Don’t you know?” Bobby asks innocently, eyes twinkling. “February 7th is Jinhwan-hyung’s birthday, and Yunhyeong’s is the day after that.”

 

And no, Junhwe did not know that. Whatever, he’s been friends with Jinhwan for about two weeks, maximum. Cut him some slack. 

 

_ Wait. _ Isn’t February 7th tomorrow? Junhwe fumbles for his phone and automatically dials Donghyuk’s cell number.

 

“Wait up, Bobby,” Junhwe calls out, Bobby being several paces ahead of Junhwe. Bobby turns around and walks back over to where Junhwe’s standing. “I need to call Donghyuk.” 

 

“ _ Bro, _ ” he says once he’s on the line with Donghyuk. “My  _ dude. _ Do you know where Yunhyeong’s dorm is?” Bobby’s watching him as he speaks the entire time, which is pretty uncomfortable.

 

“Burton Conner, right?” Donghyuk replies. “Why?”

 

“Hanbin and Bobby are planning some birthday surprise thing for Jinhwan and Yunhyeong,” Junhwe says. “Be there in fifteen?”

 

“Of course, my dude,” Donghyuk says. Fuck, Junhwe can feel his excitement through the phone. And now he’s starting to wonder--

 

“Donghyuk,” Junhwe begins, voice growing more high-pitched and agitated by the second, “Did you know it was Jinhwan’s birthday tomorrow? And not tell me?” 

 

“Uh,” Donghyuk begins, “I assumed you already knew, especially since you finally gave in to Facebook-stalking him the other day.”

 

“Well I  _ didn’t know, _ ” Junhwe says shrilly. He coughs, then adds in his normal voice, “After that strategy meeting, you need to help me figure out a present for Jinhwan.”

 

Bobby, who’s obviously eavesdropping but is pretending not to listen in, gives him a silent thumbs up. Junhwe rolls his eyes in response.

 

“Fine,” Donghyuk grumbles. There doesn’t seem to be much anger behind it. “I better get going now, so--” He hangs up.

  
  


Hanbin brings takeout when he steps inside the dorms, so naturally Junhwe plans to spend the rest of the “super secret birthday planning session” (Bobby’s words) eating rather than talking. He figures it’s a win-win situation for everyone.

 

“Next Saturday is HMMT, but we’re still going to celebrate both birthdays then,” Hanbin tells them, which explains the dark circles underneath his eyes. He’s been putting a lot more effort into the problems he writes than Junhwe has, for sure. 

 

“I want to go to a paint bar,” Donghyuk says immediately, and Junhwe rolls his eyes. Not this again.

 

“A paint bar?” Bobby asks dubiously.

 

“It’s a place where you can paint stuff,” Donghyuk says, eyes bright. “And eat stuff, too. It’s revolutionary.”

 

“I think Jinhwan wants to stay in for his birthday, though,” Hanbin points out. 

 

Donghyuk pouts. Junhwe taps him on the shoulder.

 

“I can’t believe you’re still caught up on the fact that we couldn’t go on your birthday,” Junhwe whispers, rolling his eyes. MIT had been snowed in that day, and Donghyuk didn’t stop pouting for a freaking week. “Just go for my mine, Jesus.” Donghyuk is immediately appeased, his pout morphing into a smile.

 

“We should get a cake, at least,” Bobby suggests. “Maybe torrent a movie and watch something.”

 

“Isn’t that just hanging out?” Junhwe asks.

 

“With  _ cake, _ ” Bobby stresses. “The cake makes all the difference.” Hanbin’s nodding along, so Junhwe doesn’t bother to question it any further.

 

“I don’t think we’ve ever spent time together as with all six of us,” Donghyuk says thoughtfully. “Kind of nice that it’ll happen in celebration of their birthdays, right?”

 

“Yeah, definitely,” Bobby agrees.

 

“I know Yunhyeong and Jinhwan are both proctoring HMMT on Saturday, and I’m going to be in the test grading room,” Hanbin says. “So you three can buy the cake while we’re supervising stuff.”

 

“No way,” Donghyuk says immediately. “I want to catch up with all of my Exeter friends, dude. I’m the good luck charm for the team.”

 

Hanbin looks over at Junhwe and Bobby. “What about you guys?”

 

Junhwe remains silent, even though the Lexington math team will most certainly be at HMMT. It’s not like he really has anyone to catch up with, except for maybe Chanwoo. Even that’s doubtful, given the spat they had over winter break.

 

“You’ve got the Lexington team, right?” Bobby says to him. “Hanbin, it’s fine,” Bobby adds, “We can go buy a cake in the morning and hang out with everyone during the lunch break. It’s chill.”

 

“Where are we even getting the cake from?” Donghyuk asks. 

 

“Junhwe will figure it out,” Hanbin waves off. He looks at Junhwe. “I mean, you have lived in Massachusetts your entire life…”

 

Junhwe nods, even though he hasn’t really gone and visited Boston (aside from the airport, but isn’t that in Chelsea?) since before his international olympiad days. Which is to say, for a Bostonian he doesn’t actually know shit about Boston.

 

Oh well. It’s not like he can’t google this shit.

 

“I guess we’re gonna be buying the cake together, then,” Bobby says, laughing.

 

Somehow Junhwe isn’t dreading it as much as he thought he would.

  
  


What he is dreading, though, is giving his present to Jinhwan. Junhwe has greeted Jinhwan with an awkward “happy birthday, hyung” as he walked into their algorithms class and maintained an awkward silence ever since. It dawns on him that this is the first time he’s seen Jinhwan since the dinner a couple nights back, and even though they’d exchanged a couple messages back and forth since then, there’s definitely a difference between Jinhwan typing out a  _ :) _ and Jinhwan actually smiling at him.

 

He stares at the cute little beauty mark below Jinhwan’s right eye and wonders if it’s possible to die from nervousness.  _ It probably is,  _ he thinks.

 

Jinhwan looks up from where he’d been writing his notes and catches Junhwe staring. Junhwe, being the idiot he is, does that thing where he furiously looks down and pretends he wasn’t staring even though he’s already caught.

 

If it isn’t possible to die from nervousness, then it is definitely possible to die from sheer embarrassment. Junhwe looks down at his notes for the rest of lecture, tuning out everything else around him.

 

He looks up about fifteen minutes later to see Jinhwan, already packed and ready to leave, staring at him.

 

“June, are you okay?” Jinhwan is saying, one of his hands moving to Junhwe’s forehead, presumably to check Junhwe’s temperature. “You seemed a little off today.”

 

For a couple of moments, Junhwe is frozen by the soft touch to his forehead. Miraculously, he snaps out of it in a couple of seconds, hurriedly packing up all of his stuff.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Junhwe mutters, shoving his notebook into his backpack. “Actually, I was wondering if--if you’d like to study today? Together?” He’d rather give his present to Jinhwan in some quiet library alcove rather than now, in the middle of a slowly-emptying lecture hall.

 

Jinhwan grins. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “The p-sets for this class are so tough, right?”

 

Junhwe’s about to protest before he realizes that Jinhwan’s a normal, nice college student, not the type of shit who’d say this to be passive-aggressive. It’s weird how nice and unassuming some people are at times; he keeps on expecting double-meanings and hidden allusions where there are none.

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe says, nodding eagerly. “They’re  _ really _ difficult.” He must not seem all that convincing, because Jinhwan’s eyes narrow as they walk out of the lecture hall.

 

“Are you making fun of me?” Jinhwan asks, confused. He shifts uncomfortably. “I should be used to being around geniuses now, but--” 

 

“NO!  _ No, _ no no no,” Junhwe rushes out in one breath. He  _ hates _ the word genius, hates being called one. “Never.” Then, for good measure, he adds, “I am  _ not _ a genius.”

 

There must be something in his tone that spells out how uncomfortable he is, because Jinhwan smiles worriedly and changes the subject.

 

“I’m gonna have to leave by six, though,” Jinhwan asks. “Hanbin and Bobby are really excited about their presents and stuff.” He pauses walking to stop in front of the doors to leave the building. “Ah, where do you usually study?”

 

“My dorm, if I’m with Donghyuk,” Junhwe says. Which is ninety percent of the time. “The engineering library is kinda nice, too.”

 

“No,” Jinhwan says, tugging his arm through the door. “There’s someplace else I wanna show you.”

 

It’s a twenty minute walk to where Jinhwan’s surprise study spot is, which means twenty minutes of observing the way Jinhwan’s ears, cheeks, and nose turn adorably red with the cold. 

 

“I’m sorry for the walk,” Jinhwan says apologetically as they make their way through the slushy sidewalks of Cambridge. “But it’s worth it.”

 

Junhwe shrugs, teeth chattering. His thin sweatshirt isn’t helping him much, but he’ll live. “I’m from New England,” he says, more to convince himself than to reassure Jinhwan. “I’m supposed to be used to this.”

 

Jinhwan looks up at him sympathetically, mouth forming a worried little moue. “You must be cold, hm? Here, take my scarf,” he says, removing it from his neck. 

 

He stands on his tiptoes to properly wrap it around Junhwe’s neck. Junhwe can make out each of Jinhwan’s individual eyelashes, that’s how close their faces are. “There you go,” Jinhwan murmurs. “All better now?”

 

Junhwe nods. He doesn’t trust himself with words right now.

 

Jinhwan steps away and clears his throat. “We’re getting pretty close, I think,” he says. “I hope you like it.”

 

Junhwe doesn’t quite realize what he’s walking towards until he’s standing right next to the entrance of a glass building, the outside of which says CAMBRIDGE PUBLIC LIBRARY in big letters. The walls are see-through, and everything is lit up with a golden light within the building, children and adults milling about everywhere. It reminds him of Jinhwan, in a way--warm, and golden, and really pretty.

 

“Isn’t this place so nice?” Jinhwan beams, walking inside. “There’s a quiet place to sit downstairs, actually.”

 

The fiction room meant for adults, downstairs, is quiet and still. Jinhwan doesn’t seem to be too surprised as he sets his backpack down and pulls out his laptop. 

 

“Most of the time, there’s no one here,” Jinhwan says, a little sadly. “People don’t really read anymore, I guess--I mean, I haven’t read a good book since Thanksgiving, maybe.”

 

Junhwe doesn’t respond, isn’t sure how to. He can’t remember the last thing he’s read that wasn’t a textbook or assigned reading for some class. He can’t remember the last time he read for pleasure, the way he used to when he was a child, before math became so important to him.

 

“Hyung,” Junhwe says, remembering the present in his backpack as he takes out his own laptop. “I have a present for you, actually.” He hands it over. The gift’s been wrapped haphazardly with the wrapping paper Junhwe managed to scourge up, and he stares at the reindeer-covered present in his hands with dismay.  _ It didn’t seem so ugly this morning, _ he thinks. “It’s, um, I hope you like it?”

 

Jinhwan takes the present and smiles at him, amused. “I hope I like it too,” he replies softly. 

 

He’s slow and neat while unraveling the wrapping paper, which doesn’t really make too much sense considering that the Christmas-themed packaging really isn’t worth saving. Jinhwan finally tears off all of the wrapping paper, revealing the book Junhwe gave him. Jinhwan’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

 

“ _ Ender’s Shadow _ ?” he asks, reading off the title. He looks a little--confused, maybe. It sets off a bit of panic within Junhwe.

 

“Have you read  _ Ender’s Game _ ?” Junhwe asks nervously.

 

“Yes,” Jinhwan says, looking up at Junhwe intently. “Lonely, isolated child genius saves the world, hm?” 

 

Junhwe’s throat feels dry, all of a sudden. “It’s--” he coughs awkwardly. “One of my favorite books, actually.”

 

Jinhwan turns the book over to read the summary on the back. “This book kind of freaked me out in middle school, actually,” he admits. “The way Ender always ended up killing people by accident. Also,” he looks at Junhwe questioningly, “Isn’t the author, ah, really homophobic?”

 

Junhwe shrugs. “The book is good,” he says bluntly. He’s not sure what to say in defense, not even sure how to articulate the way that book had soothed him through the worst of eighth and ninth grade. He’s not sure how to explain the way it had brought him comfort, and how he wants to share that comfort with Jinhwan. 

 

“And--kids can be cruel,” Junhwe adds brusquely, looking away. “ _ Ender’s Shadow _ \--it’s a parallel novel to  _ Ender’s Game _ , and it’s much more well-written, and it’s also about a lonely, isolated child genius, but, uh,” he takes a breath, aware that he’s rambling the way he usually does when he gets nervous, “this one makes friends?”

 

Jinhwan smiles at him. “It means a lot to you,” he notes. “This book.”

 

Junhwe shrugs. “Yunhyeong said that you took English classes for fun, so I assume you like to read,” he says. He runs a hand through his hair, a little fidgety.

 

“I do. Ah, thank you so much,” Jinhwan says, beaming. He hesitates before reaching up to pat Junhwe’s cheek a couple times. His hand is small and warm as it cups Junhwe’s face, and so is the smile that lights up Jinhwan’s eyes.

 

Junhwe blushes furiously. “Let’s, uh, go back to studying?” he suggests. The end of his sentence is about two octaves higher than his regular voice. 

 

“Sure,” Jinhwan says, eyes crinkling in that way that shows he’s vaguely amused. 

  
  


Donghyuk wakes him up the morning of HMMT by unceremoniously tugging the covers off of Junhwe's bed.

 

"Bro," Donghyuk says. "Wake up."

 

"What the fuck, dude," Junhwe protests, sitting up in his bed. Donghyuk stares back at him, unimpressed.

 

"HMMT,  _ dude, _ " Donghyuk mimics. "Actually though, Hanbin wants us to come early to help set up."

 

Junhwe makes a show of grumbling as they walk to the Student Center, but the truth is he's pretty excited.  _ There's nothing like a math competition, _ he thinks somewhat wistfully, even though he was the one who opted out of Putnam this year. Both of this year’s HMMT tournaments are the closest he’s gotten to competition math, besides that one time the seniors and juniors on his floor got drunk and took an AIME--half of them getting ten or more problems right, the fuck--while Donghyuk and Junhwe “proctored”.

 

Hanbin throws Junhwe and Donghyuk t-shirts as soon as they step in. They say  _ HMMT _ on them in this abstract way that informs Junhwe that they must've gotten someone from Design to create the logo.

 

"I'm not proctoring," Junhwe says in lieu of a greeting. He squints at the t-shirt in his hands, thinking that maybe if he tilts his head enough he'll be able to actually read the whole shirt.

 

"We know," Hanbin says impatiently, nervous fingers tapping against his lips as he talks. "But you're helping set up, and if lost parents are asking you for directions you better answer them politely."

 

"Uhuh," Junhwe nods. He's flipped the shirt over, now intently examining the back. It has the names of all the sponsors, naturally.

 

"Don't hurt your head trying to figure out how to wear a t-shirt," Jinhwan teases, walking in with Bobby and Yunhyeong. The three of them are already wearing the HMMT shirts, and when Jinhwan turns to hand Hanbin over breakfast, Junhwe notices _ it. _ It being the ear piercing on Jinhwan’s left ear.

 

"You have a piercing," he says, staring at Jinhwan's ear intently. It's nothing special, really--just a simple black stud--but it makes Junhwe feel a little weak in the head.

 

"Ah, yes," Jinhwan touches his ear shyly, as if to remind himself that the earring exists. "I wanted to do it for a while, and Hanbin and Bobby actually took me to get it done for my birthday."

 

"Isn't it  _ really _ hot?" Bobby asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Don't you think hyung looks  _ sexy _ with a piercing?" In the periphery of Junhwe's vision, he can see Donghyuk and Yunhyeong laughing silently.

 

He gives Bobby a  _ look, _ one that says _ I am going to skin you for this later _ , then shifts his gaze to Jinhwan. For some reason, Jinhwan's listening intently, an unreadable expression on his face.

 

"Yeah, it's--fine," Junhwe grits out, right hand clenching reflexively into a fist. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, actually.

Conveniently, Hanbin finishes scarfing down his bagel at that exact moment and assigns Junhwe and Donghyuk to assemble question packets, so Junhwe doesn't have to dwell on the look of disappointment that was on Jinhwan's face.

 

"My dude," Donghyuk says as they walk to where the packets are being assembled. "You messed that up, man."

 

"What the fuck was I supposed to say?" Junhwe says, confused. "Bobby was out to embarrass me, that ass."

 

Donghyuk sighs. "Whatever, man," he says. "Let's just get this done so I can show you off to my Exeter friends."

 

"You want  _ me  _ to meet them?" Junhwe asks, genuinely surprised. Sometimes he forgets that Donghyuk actually values him as a friend; it used to be such a foreign concept a year ago. It’s still hard for him sometimes, sharing things with Donghyuk and Donghyuk sharing all of his insecurities back, but it usually feels like the best thing in the world.

 

"Of course." Donghyuk says, rolling his eyes, as if Junhwe’s being ridiculous. As if to say, _ Duh, why wouldn’t I show you off to my friends? _ "I want them to meet you, too."

 

They get into the rhythm of assembling and stapling packets quickly enough, right beside some of the other students who decided to help out.

 

"Johnny Suh, right?" Junhwe greets the guy stapling papers to the right of him. Johnny looks up, surprised, before recognition dawns on his face.

 

"You were at MOP?" Johnny asks, going in for one of those dude-hugs where Junhwe has to pat Johnny's back a couple times. It’s awkward. "Nice to see you again."

 

"You wrote the geo problems for HMMT, right?" Junhwe asks, smirking.

 

Johnny slaps a hand over his face and groans loudly. "Who told you?" he asks, looking defeated.

 

Junhwe shrugs. "No one, actually," he says. "I proofread some of the geo questions and I always keep track of TSTs, anyway."

 

"Oh my _ God, _ " Johnny says, looking a little alarmed. "Is it that obvious?"

 

Donghyuk nudges Junhwe's left shoulder. "What's that obvious?" he whispers unsubtly into Junhwe's ear.

 

"They flirt through math problems," Junhwe says. Johnny has returned back to stapling, his ears reddening with every word out of Junhwe's mouth. "Him and his boyfriend from Thailand. It's pretty cute, actually."

 

"Wait," Donghyuk says. "Is that why one of the problems you wrote begins with 'acute triangle JAY'?"

 

"Shut  _ up _ ," Junhwe hisses, elbowing Donghyuk in the side. Now Johnny's the one smirking, turning to face him with a grin.

 

“Jinhwan-hyung, huh?” Johnny asks, and how many people call Jinhwan  _ hyung, _ Jesus Christ. “I heard he only dates people who are shorter than him.”

 

“Good to know?” Junhwe says weakly.  _ Noooooo, _ his mind screams. Beside him, Donghyuk’s laughing silently, his breathing choked in a way that’s starting to grate on his nerves.

 

Johnny laughs too. “I was just joking, oh my God,” he says. “The expression on your face--” he imitates it, jaw dropping and eyes widening “--that was priceless, man.”

 

Junhwe huffs. “You’re an ass,” he says affectionately, in that way he only gets during math tournaments--excited and happy and feeling connected in ways he normally doesn’t, even if the connection is with a kind-of-asshole from Chicago.

  
  


Donghyuk's Exeter friends are immediately identifiable by their matching t-shirts, one of them holding a map to figure out directions. As soon as they spot Donghyuk and Junhwe, they scream "DONG!!" as loud as they can, smiles lighting up their faces. Junhwe ignores the twinge of jealousy in his gut.

 

"Hey guys," Donghyuk greets, going around and hugging every single person in the group. At that moment, Junhwe is aware of how little Donghyuk and him touch each other. For all their communication and secret-sharing, sometimes Junhwe forgets how little time he’s known Donghyuk for. How little Donghyuk must think of him in comparison to his high school friends, his elite upper-class peers who Donghyuk obviously has more in common with. 

 

"Who's this?" A girl asks, looking Junhwe up and down with a smile on her face. She’s pretty, with dyed-blonde hair that’s dark at the roots. Maybe under different circumstances, Junhwe would even be flustered enough to try and stutter out some conversation, but this time around he’s fine looking and appreciating from a distance. He already goes through enough embarrassment with Jinhwan, no mind talking up strangers. 

 

Donghyuk looks up from where he's hugging a tiny high school freshman. "Oh, that's Junhwe Goo," he says casually. Then he looks at Junhwe, as if to say  _ Watch this. _

 

All of Exeter's math team bursts into excited chatter, and the girl who had been eyeing him earlier beams at him, showing off all of her straight, white teeth. It’s pretty distracting, actually, but Junhwe isn't really affected much. "I'm Shannon," she says. "Nice to meet you."

 

"Yeah," Junhwe says absently, more than a little confused. Another girl greets him, then a couple guys, then another girl who asks him for his goddamn autograph. He tries to keep track of names as best as he can--Suah, Seokmin, BamBam (?), Yugyeom, Lisa--but it kind of fades into an overwhelming blur.

 

"Guys," Donghyuk laughs once he returns to Junhwe's side. "Give him some space, Jesus."

 

Junhwe elbows him in the ribs. "What the fuck, dude," he hisses into Donghyuk's ear.

 

"You're a  _ legend, _ June," Donghyuk says with a whisper. "I mean, at MIT everyone's kind of like that, so it's normal," he shrugs, "But yeah, everyone knows who you are."

 

"Okay," Junhwe manages to get out. "I don't--I'm not comfortable with--" he hesitates. "I'm gonna go find Bobby to get the cake," he says. "Uh, Team Round's gonna start in a couple minutes anyway."

 

He turns to leave, but Donghyuk grabs his arm. "Want me to come with?" Donghyuk asks, voice low and quiet in his ear.

 

"No, I'm fine," Junhwe says, shaking his hand off roughly. Donghyuk looks hurt, but he can’t be bothered to care--not when Donghyuk’s surrounded by more friends than Junhwe has ever had, friends that are better than Junhwe will ever be at being around Donghyuk, at being able to touch him, at being his friend. "You should--you should go back to your friends."

 

He walks away and texts Bobby to meet him in the main lobby, using the time spent waiting to observe, from a distance, the way Donghyuk acts around his high school friends. They don't seem resentful of him, seem to adore him the way everyone adores Donghyuk when they first meet him. Even wearing his HMMT t-shirt, he looks like a part of them the way Lexington High School never welcomed Junhwe.

 

"June!" someone says from behind him.  _ Fuck,  _ he recognizes that voice, and Junhwe tenses instinctively. "Junhwe, I was looking for you--"

 

"What do you want?" Junhwe bites out, whirling around to face Chanwoo. Anger is easier to handle than hurt, so he masks himself in it, makes himself feel comfortable in his fury.

 

"Junhwe," Chanwoo says. "We should--I want to talk."

 

Junhwe's hands curl up to form fists, fingernails digging harshly into the flesh of his palms.  _ Don't cry, _ he reminds himself, even though the mere sight of Chanwoo brings up memories of winter break. When Chanwoo had said that he was sick of living in Junhwe's shadow, when Chanwoo told Junhwe that he was glad that Junhwe had went off to college. When Junhwe had replied with a terrible,  _ Maybe I went to MIT to get away from you, you asshole, _ and they hadn't spoke for the rest of break.

 

"Maybe later?" Junhwe asks. "During lunch, or something." God, the tears are welling up in his eyes, and he looks down at his feet, trying to blink them away. "I have to--to meet with a friend, actually."

 

"Okay," Chanwoo says, sounding hesitant. "We--the team isn't gonna do that well, probably, but we've got some new talent with the freshman."

 

"Yeah," Junhwe says. "I'm--"

 

"Who's this, June?" Bobby says, stepping next to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder. He smiles at Chanwoo, grin a little menacing. "It's always nice to meet a friend of June's."

 

Chanwoo eyes the arm around Junhwe's shoulder a little jealously, no doubt thinking about all the times Junhwe had thrown off his touch.  _ That was different, _ Junhwe wants to tell him.  _ I was stressed out and I had a crush on you and that was  _ different.

 

"I'd... better get going, we should talk later," Chanwoo says, then turning to Bobby. "It's nice to meet you too," he says politely.

 

"Who was that?" Bobby asks, once Chanwoo is out of sight. He steps away from Junhwe's personal space, looking at Junhwe with a concerned expression, and for some reason that's what sets off his tears.

 

Junhwe wipes his tears away silently, more annoyed than anything else. He cries easily, and a lot, but it's always so embarrassing to do it in public, and not within the safety of the room he shares with Donghyuk.

"June," Bobby says, coming closer. He hesitates, patting Junhwe's shoulders, and mercifully doesn't say anything else till Junhwe's collected himself.

They make their way out of the main building in silence. It's fairly warm for February, the sun shining and the snow reflecting the light back everywhere Junhwe looks.

"Where are we going?" Bobby asks, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He gives Junhwe this sort of meaningful look, one that Junhwe's supposed to understand, but he ignores it.

"Uh, Mike's Pastry?" Junhwe says, taking out his phone to scroll through the directions he had written down yesterday, courtesy of Google Maps. "We should probably take the T. It won't cost too much."

"Okay," Bobby agrees. The Kendall Square station isn't too far away, and Junhwe pays for the fee with ease.

They spend most of the ride in painfully awkward silence, fidgeting in their musty fabric-covered seats (Bobby’s a manspreader, who would’ve guessed), till Bobby comments, "That kid was from your high school, right?"

"Chanwoo? Yeah, he's from Lexington," Junhwe says, a little uncomfortably. "We--" he clears his throat. "He was the closest thing I had to a friend, back then."

Junhwe feels ashamed as he says this, thinking about how Bobby's got two unconditionally loving best friends and loads more friends, but he knows it’s true now that he’s got Donghyuk to compare. The way Junhwe and Chanwoo had competed with each other so mercilessly, the way Junhwe had withdrawn from Chanwoo because he had a crush and was so, so scared--that isn't even on the same level as the bond Bobby has with Jinhwan and Hanbin, or even the one Junhwe shares with Donghyuk.

"Was he jealous?" Bobby asks, gently. “Of you?”

Junhwe looks at him, surprised, "Yeah," he admits finally. It had taken him a lot of time to see through the rose-colored lenses of his crush, but the truth was that Chanwoo resented him too, even if they were friends. "I mean, the whole LHS math team aren't really my biggest fans."

"Really," Bobby says dryly. "I never would've guessed, considering competitive Lexington is."

"They expected me to carry the whole team," Junhwe says, looking out the window. They're crossing the Charles River, and its icy surface glints in the sunlight, imposingly cool and beautiful. "Instead I dropped out of high school and came to MIT, to their dream school."

"It's--we're not like that here," Bobby says. He shifts a little closer, his knee knocking into Junhwe’s.

"Obviously," Junhwe scoffs.

"No, I mean, the six of us--we're not gonna be the closest thing you have to friendship," Bobby says earnestly. "We're--"

"I get it, I get it," Junhwe interrupts, blushing. He finishes Bobby’s sentence in his head:  _ We’re gonna be your friends. _ It makes him feel warm, and almost a little embarrassed, inside. "It's our stop, anyways." They get off and make their way out of the Haymarket station.

"Oh my God," Bobby moans once they've reached daylight. "We're finally breathing fresh air."

"This area is still kinda polluted," Junhwe says, laughing despite himself. "Yeah, the T always smells like crap."

"So," Bobby says, looking around him. "Lead the way."

It feels like a different world, this part of Boston. The streets are one-way and narrow, the buildings made of brick and only three or four stories tall, picturesque and almost vintage. It’s where someone would take a nice picture for Instagram, maybe, then add a couple filters to fuck everything up. There’s a lot of people, everywhere, too: tourists and people going out on a run and families with their kids.

They only have to walk a couple blocks before they reach Mike's Pastry. Even though it's about 10 AM on a Saturday morning, there's still a bit of a line. The room is crowded and cramped, and Junhwe’s grateful for his height as he peers over heads to view the menu.

"Have you been here before?" Junhwe asks idly, scanning the board. He knows that Yunhyeong likes red velvet cake (thanks to Donghyuk, of course), whereas Jinhwan prefers tiramisu.

"I think Jinhwan brought me stuff from here once," Bobby says. "Cannolis and all that, right?"

Junhwe nods, already smelling that distinctive oily-sweet scent of cannolis. "Do you want one?"

"Nah, that's fine," Bobby says easily. "Just get the cupcakes and tiramisu."

  
  


Once they step out of the bakery, Bobby hesitates. "Is Quincy Market close by?" he asks. "Or can we take the T there?"

Junhwe looks it up on his phone, once again. "It's not too far away," he notes. "We walk across the park area over there, turn left--" he points to where Hanover Street meets Cross Street "--and then it's just a couple of blocks. Uh, should take us about eight or nine minutes."

"Hmm, okay," Bobby says. "There's something I wanna get over there, actually, so can we go?"

"Yeah, it's whatever," Junhwe says, shrugging.

Maybe the act of buying the cake got him excited, or something, but by the time they reach Quincy Market Bobby is back to teasing Junhwe and being his usual annoying self.

"So what did you think of the piercing, Junhwe?" Bobby asks, waggling his eyebrows and throwing an arm over Junhwe's shoulder. "Everyone could see how thirsty you were for Jinhwan-hyung."

Junhwe shrugs Bobby's arm off easily and he doesn't seem to be too surprised. "It was really hot," Junhwe admits, immediately blushing at his own words.

"Aww, June's got a crush," Bobby coos as they walk through North End Park. It doesn’t seem like much of a park to Junhwe--more of just a general green area, like a town square, or something--but the sight of the artificial geysers springing out of the cement side-by-side with happy couples lounging on the grass is enough to slow his steps and take in the view.

"Shut up," Junhwe says, absolutely no heat behind it. He’s still a little distracted by the fountains, and his head turns to catch another glimpse of it as they walk past. “I still haven’t forgiven you for calling me out in front of Jinhwan like that.”

“You shoulda just said you liked it,” Bobby shrugs. “Then you wouldn’t have to forgive anyone. A few nice words never hurt, Jesus.”

They walk the next couple blocks down Cross Street in slightly uncomfortable silence, until they’re entering Faneuil Hall Marketplace, or Quincy Market. In the winter, everything is slightly more subdued--especially since it’s past Christmas--but Junhwe still thinks the feeling of walking on the cobbled foot roads between stores is the best in the world. He might be a terrible Bostonian, but he still  _ is _ one. 

"Uh, what did you wanna buy anyways?" Junhwe asks, eager to change the subject.

"Just some chocolates for Hanbin," Bobby says as they step inside Ghirardelli. With Valentine's Day in a couple of days, the whole shop is decked out in pink and red, heart-shaped boxes everywhere.  _ Buy the best chocolate for your better half, _ one garishly colored sign suggests.

Junhwe raises his eyebrows. "That's cute, Bobby," he says.

Bobby blushes, flustered, as he takes in the state of the store. "Not like that, dumbass," he protests. "Hanbin's been putting a lot of pressure on himself lately, so I figured it'd make a nice surprise. He needs to loosen up a bit."

Junhwe nods solemnly. "Very romantic," he says. The corner of his mouth twitches. Bobby’s not lying about Hanbin, though--that kid is always stressed out and over-worked about something or the other.

"Go to hell," Bobby says, heading towards the back of the store. The chocolate bars here are all labelled with percentages and different flavorings.

"What type does Hanbin like?" Junhwe asks. He himself is partial to 70% Dark Chocolate Sea Salt, but he's not quite sure how to say that out loud without sounding really, really dumb.

"Eighty percent Dark Chocolate Cherry," Bobby rattles off, scanning the wall. For a couple of moments, they stand and look for it together in silence.

"Found it," Junhwe calls, reaching up for the chocolate. He turns around and hands it to Bobby. "What's Jinhwan's favorite chocolate?" he asks in what he hopes is a casual tone.

Bobby grins at him. "He prefers Lindt truffles," he says. "You know, the ones that are shaped like balls?" He makes a vaguely obscene gesture in the air.

"Stop that," Junhwe groans, elbowing Bobby in the side. "Just pay for it so we can leave."

  
  


"You aren't too bad to be around," Junhwe says grudgingly as they take the T back to Kendall Square.

Bobby laughs at that, a gravelly sound. "What a compliment," he remarks dryly, but he sounds really pleased. "You really don't know when to shut your mouth, do you?"

"I mean, at MOP you were so much--more," Junhwe says, unable to figure out where he's going with this. "You were always hugging me from behind or surprising me or, or, making fun of my face."

Bobby loses it, laughing almost hysterically. It's the kind of laugh that's infectious and scary, all at once.

"Bro," he says, in between peels of laughter, "My dude." His eyes have crinkled into crescents, and Junhwe kind of wants to smile, but he’s still a little confused.

"That's Donghyuk's thing," Junhwe says a bit sourly, "You ass."

"I didn't know you were that oblivious," Bobby says, still chuckling. His legs spread a little wider, so that his knee knocks into Junhwe’s. He pats Junhwe’s thigh, as if to console him, and Junhwe shoves off his hand quickly.

"What is it?" Junhwe asks, gritting his teeth.

"I was," Bobby gestures vaguely in the air, as if  _ that’s _ supposed to explain anything, "into you back then."

"Oh," Junhwe says, a little dumbstruck and more than a little shocked. Though, the more he thinks about it--

"So that's why you were always calling me handsome, huh?" Junhwe says, amazed. "I thought--" he laughs sheepishly, hand running through his hair "--that you were just making fun of my face."

"Those LHS kids must've been passive aggressive as hell," Bobby comments, eyeing Junhwe carefully. "Or," he grins, "maybe you're just dumb." They consider this in silence for a couple of moments. 

"Wait," Junhwe begins, eyeing Bobby suspiciously. "Do you like me now?" He doubts it, given the whole chocolates-for-Hanbin thing, but. If Jiwon Kim had a crush on him two years ago, anything is possible.

Bobby smiles toothily. "Yeah, you're really dumb," he decides, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Junhwe scowls.

“Fuck you,” Junhwe says, shifting his legs away from Bobby’s.

"Hey, calm down.” Bobby’s legs are practically taking up three seats, now, with how much he’s spread them, and the lady sitting across from them on the T is giving Bobby a judgemental look. “Now that I know you for real, Junhwe Goo," he says easily, "nah."

  
  


Once they’ve returned to campus, Junhwe’s in a much better mood than he was when they left to go shopping. They drop the cake off at Burton Conner, then head back to where HMMT is being held; true to Hanbin’s word, they’re stopped a couple of times for directions by confused parents, but they make it back to the building before lunch time.

“Let’s grab Donghyuk and infiltrate the scoring room together,” Bobby says. “You guys wanna check the scores of your high school’s, right?”

Junhwe gapes at him. “Is that, uh, even allowed?” he asks. The seniors and juniors who are actually coordinators for HMMT are scary as fuck.

Bobby grins and holds up the bar of 80% dark chocolate. “I can bribe Hanbin,” he says. “Hit two birds with one stone, or some shit.”

“Oh my God,” Junhwe says, impressed. “Alright, I’m texting him.”

They meet up with Donghyuk quickly and begin their Stealth Walk towards the scoring room. About halfway, they realize that stealth isn’t exactly necessary, given that they’re all wearing HMMT t-shirts, which--whatever. Stealth walking is fun, and Donghyuk can barely hold in his giggles as they open the door of the scoring room.

Hanbin is on the other side of the room, standing with Jinhwan and Yunhyeong. He looks excited and tired at the same time, which is basically Hanbin’s default expression--the kid’s always overworking himself, but he loves what he does.

“Hanbin!” Bobby shouts from the doorway, waving. Hanbin looks over, a little surprised, but it’s quickly replaced with amusement as he rolls his eyes and makes his way over.

“No,” Hanbin replies shortly, crossing his arms. “You aren’t supposed to be in this room if you aren’t a proctor or grader.”

“Binnie,” Bobby tries with a fake pout; it’s horrific to watch. Junhwe poorly disguises his laughter with a cough.

“Booby,” Hanbin deadpans. Junhwe and Donghyuk exchange looks, and yep, that’s it--they burst into laughter, Bobby looking on with the appropriate amount of mortification.

He gets over it quickly enough. “Please, Hanbin?” Bobby pleads. He waves the chocolate in front of Hanbin’s face. “These fucking assholes--” he turns to grin at Junhwe and Donghyuk “--really want to see the scores.”

Hanbin sighs, resigned. “Fine, Bobby, but you better be outta here in two minutes, or you’ll have Yixing on your backs.”

“What’s so scaring about Yixing?” Junhwe asks skeptically. Yixing Zhang lives on the floor above Junhwe’s and he’s the type of math major who gets side-tracked by the Wall of Math Problems and suggests taking an AIME while drunk. He isn’t scary, he’s crazy and absent-minded and amazing.

Donghyuk elbows Junhwe. “His grad school boyfriend, you ass.” Junhwe has no idea what they’re talking about.

“I’ve heard he was part of the mafia,” Bobby says with fake solemnity, eyes twinkling. 

“But seriously, he’s scary as fuck, so stop wasting time and check the goddamn scores, Jesus,” Hanbin says. Junhwe and Donghyuk hurry over to the computers, where Jinhwan, Yunhyeong, and some others are poring over a spreadsheet.

“You, ah, want to see the scores, right?” Jinhwan asks. He doesn’t look up at Junhwe, instead entering data into the spreadsheet. “What’s the team name?”

“Uh, Lexington Alpha?” he tries. That’s what the name was last year, at least.

Jinhwan hums absently, chewing on his bottom lip. “Okay, here it is.” He steps away from the computer and lets Junhwe take a look.

It’s as expected--the performance isn’t as good as last year’s, but the Team Round scores are within the top 20 and Chanwoo’s done well, placing in the top 10 for geometry and combinatorics. There’s also another person who stands out--Pinky Zhu (what kind of name is that?), who Junhwe’s never even heard of, places in the top 10 for geometry as well. Pinky also happens to be a girl, which is pretty unusual in itself, so Junhwe makes note of her name.

Hanbin groans from behind them, “Guys, it’s time for lunch,” he says. “I’m staying back to grade, but Yixing’s gonna return and I don’t want to fucking die so, um, bye?”

Jinhwan and Yunhyeong follow the three of them out the door. “So,” Jinhwan begins, looking between Donghyuk and Junhwe, “How were the scores?”

Donghyuk grins happily. “PEA Red Lions got third place Team Round,” he says proudly. “At least two people each in the top ten, and we’re amazing at guts, so sweepstakes should be good.”

Junhwe shrugs. “Two people in the top ten,” he says. “I’m kinda surprised, I think one of them’s a freshman.”

Bobby whistles. “That’s some good shit right there,” he says. “I’m grabbing take-out and joining Hanbin to grade, so, see ya.” With that, he turns around and walks away, hands shoved in his pockets.

“The rest of you guys going to lunch?” Jinhwan asks. They all nod and set off for Lobdell Dining Hall, where lunch is being held.

It’s a sight to behold, lunch at a math tournament. There are clumps of students from different teams--Junhwe can easily tell them apart by t-shirt color--talking about all sorts of things, from League to speculations about AMC 10 difficulty to the tournament problems. One girl, getting passionate in her explanation of the solution, takes a pencil out and starts writing calculations on the paper tablecloth.

“We get that type of tablecloth for that exact reason, I think,” Yunhyeong remarks. “Pretty nice, isn’t it.”

Junhwe’s about to voice his agreement when Donghyuk spots his Exeter friends. “Bro,” Donghyuk says, leaning close to Junhwe, “I know you don’t like my friends, but I, um, want to show Yunhyeong to them?” 

“I don’t not like them,” Junhwe whispers back. He’s a little frustrated, but he’s not sure whether it’s at Donghyuk or himself. “I’m just--bad. With people.”

“I get it,” Donghyuk whispers quietly, patting Junhwe’s back. Then he turns to face all four of them.

“Yunhyeong and I are going to lunch with the Exeter team,” Donghyuk announces. Yunhyeong looks a little apologetic as he follows Donghyuk, but mostly happy. 

This, of course, means that he’s left with Jinhwan for lunch. There’s also the problem of having to find Chanwoo and trying to talk to him alone, and the second problem of avoiding the Lexington team as a whole, and the third issue of maybe talking to Pinky and encouraging her, and. Sometimes Junhwe loves math tournaments, but right now he kind of just feels a little panicky.

Spending time with Jinhwan is becoming more and more comfortable, though. They wait in line for pizza slices, the conversation mostly mundane anecdotes about how the day had gone. An overeager high school student behind them pushes Junhwe a little closer than he would normally stand next to Jinhwan, and their hands brush together a couple of times. Jinhwan’s fingers are warm and dry as they pass over the skin of Junhwe’s hand.

After getting their food, Junhwe scans the area for familiar faces. “I’m looking for the LHS math team,” he explains to Jinhwan. “Uh, they have red t-shirts. I think.” He doesn’t expect Jinhwan to be that helpful, given that Jinhwan probably can’t even see over everyone else. They stand there for a couple of moments, looking over the dining hall.

“Jinhwan-hyung! Oh, and Junhwe,” Chanwoo calls, walking up to them. He immediately goes in for a hug with Jinhwan, Junhwe looking on, surprised.

“You know Jinhwan?” Junhwe asks, hands reflexively clenching into fists. He tries to bury the jealousy, mostly because he’s a little jealous of both of them, at the same time--how messed up is that? 

“ _ You _ know Jinhwan?” Chanwoo counters. Jinhwan looks on with an amused smile. 

Turning to Junhwe, he says, “June, I was a junior counselor at PROMYS when Chanwoo was, ah, fourteen.” He looks up at Chanwoo fondly, shaking his head. “You haven’t changed at all, but you’ve grown really tall, hm?”

Chanwoo beams proudly. “I’m six feet tall, now,” he says. 

_ Big deal, _ Junhwe thinks sourly. They’re both the same height. He grabs Chanwoo’s arm and pulls him away from Jinhwan.

“Just wanna talk to him for a second,” he explains over Chanwoo’s shoulder. He leans in close, whispering in Chanwoo’s ear. “Are we gonna talk, or just keep on pretending that everything’s fine?”

Chanwoo looks at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. “We can talk after lunch,” he whispers. “It’s--I need advice for Guts Round anyways.”

Junhwe hits Chanwoo’s shoulder and smiles. “As if, you ass,” he says, trying for affectionate, the way Donghyuk is. It comes out a bit awkward--he’s no Donghyuk Kim--but, he’s trying. 

They turn back to Jinhwan quickly, who’s waiting for them with a strange look on his face. “You guys sorted your stuff out?” he asks, looking between the two of them. He looks--uncomfortable, maybe, and he’s hiding it with a smile the way he always does.

Junhwe shrugs. “We’ll talk about it after lunch,” he says, finally taking a bite of his pizza. The three of them eat standing up, discussing how the rounds went for Chanwoo and the rest of LHS. Chanwoo, predictably, asks for his placements and scores, but Junhwe keeps his mouth shut. 

“It isn’t fair for the other high schools without alumni,” Junhwe says, smirking. “Right, hyung?” Jinhwan nods, a little delayed.

“Junhwe, you’re the worst,” Chanwoo says, even sticking his tongue out like the little brat he is. Junhwe misses their easy camaraderie; removing the competitiveness of high school and forgetting about their fights, even if it’s just for the moment, makes everything so much easier. It’s amazing.

“Oh yeah,” Junhwe says, slapping his thigh as he remembers, “Is there someone on your team named Pinky? Pinky Zhu?”

Chanwoo blushes at the mere mention of her name, which makes it the most obvious crush in the history of obvious crushes. Junhwe’s just grateful that he’s not taking that prize.

“Yeah, Pinky,” Chanwoo says weakly. “Um, she went to Clarke with us, actually? She just--she didn’t have an English name, remember?”

“Oh, Jieqiong?” Junhwe asks. He vaguely remembers a sixth grade girl who did Mathcounts when he was in eighth grade. “I remember her--yeah, she was in sixth grade or something, wasn’t she?”

“What about her?” Chanwoo says, curious. “She’s a freshman, you know, you shouldn’t be prepositioning girls that young.”

Junhwe rolls his eyes, used to Chanwoo’s dumb math team humor. Beside him, Jinhwan stiffens visibly. “Just wanted to talk to her,” he says. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad are the guys treating her?”

Chanwoo frowns. “Probably, like, imaginary,” he says. “She’s, um, really pretty, so half the guys like her and the other half are scared to talk to her.”

“Assholes,” Junhwe bites out. It brings back too many memories for him. He throws away his plate, wipes his hands on his jeans, and says, “Point me to where she is?”

Chanwoo points, and he can barely make out the figure of a girl from so far away. He turns to Jinhwan, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Can you stay with Chanwoo for me, hyung?” he asks. “I want to talk to Jieqiong--I mean, Pinky--but I don’t want to lose track of either of you before Guts Round.”

“Of course, sure,” Jinhwan whispers back. He looks over at Chanwoo and smiles. “Channie and I have to catch up, anyways.”

Junhwe clenches his fists again before slowly unfurling his fingers, forcing the tension out of him. Then, he sets off across the room. 

It’s easy enough to find Jieqiong--Junhwe sort of remembers her from their year together at Jonas Clarke, and she’s seated close to the rest of the LHS math team, but far away enough to look isolated. She’s staring at the screen of her phone, obviously bored.

“Uh, hey,” Junhwe greets, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to her. It’s interesting to see how her facial expression changes from boredom to recognition, and settles into boredom again.

“Junhwe Goo, right?” she asks. It sounds dismissive, practiced; it reminds him of Yeijin, a bit.

“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Jieqiong, right?”

She makes a face at that. “It’s--I go by Pinky,” she says. “Easier to pronounce.”

Junhwe shrugs. “Okay, Pinky.” He pauses, unsure of how to phrase his words. “So, uh, how’s life?’

Pinky raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine,” she says slowly, “But--what’s this really about? We spoke, like, two sentences to each other in middle school.”

“Just wanted to see,” Junhwe gestures vaguely, “You know.”

“No, I don’t,” she responds bluntly.

“How’s math going?” he asks, trying for a diversion. “This year, with the team and all.” At that question, Pinky seems to relax, no longer so rigid.

“Well,” she begins. “If you’d really like to know…” The rest of the conversation follows smoothly, with Pinky talking about how HMMT went and different problems she found interesting or hard. It’s similar to the conversation Junhwe had with Chanwoo and Jinhwan earlier, except she’s a lot more excited to talk to someone.

She’s in the middle of recounting a geometry problem she really liked when Junhwe notices the time. It’s about twenty minutes before everyone has to make their way over to their Guts Round locations, and he still needs to talk to Chanwoo.

Junhwe lets her finish--it doesn’t take too long, as she talks really fast when she’s excited--then says, “I have to head back now, guts is starting in twenty.”

“Oh, okay,” Pinky says, no longer as excited. She’s smiling, though, and Chanwoo was right--she is very pretty. 

“Uh, I’ll see you around, maybe?” he tries. Junhwe hesitates, then adds, “I know--it might be hard, to be with the team, sometimes, but, uh, you’re really good, so keep it up.” It’s a terrible, terrible pep talk, delivered to a smart, competent girl who doesn’t even need one. Really, Junhwe doesn’t know why he tries.

Pinky raises an eyebrow again. “Okay,” she says. 

When Junhwe returns to where Jinhwan and Chanwoo are, he’s happy and a little nervous to talk to Chanwoo. He keeps on thinking about their fight during winter break, about all of the fights he’s had with Chanwoo and Donghyuk, ones where they say things like _ It feels like you don’t even care about me, _ which are always the worst things to hear because sometimes Junhwe cares so  _ much _ he feels like his heart will bleed because of it. 

Chanwoo and Junhwe walk out of the Student Center and amble along the surrounding fields, white with snow. It’s cold, and they shiver in their t-shirts. Both of them withstand the chill silently, though; even though their winters are spent inside, poring over math problems, they still have New England pride.

“So,” Chanwoo begins. He talks to the salt-covered cement beneath his feet, and doesn’t face Junhwe. “I’m sorry for all the things I said during winter break.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Junhwe replies stiffly. “It was hard to be friends with each other, back then. Especially since, uh,” he fumbles. “You know.”

“I was jealous,” Chanwoo says quietly. “My parents still wouldn’t shut up about you, about all the things you had been up to at MIT, and it hurt twice as much because you weren’t even there. You weren’t even there, and you were ruining my life, and when you did come back--I was tired, and mad, and you just came from MIT with your replacement best friend--”

“We weren’t friends,” Junhwe says. It makes him sad to say this, but it’s the truth. He can feel his eyes heating up, warning him he’s about to cry. “We were always competing, and comparing, and we didn’t give two fucks about each other outside of math. It’s not--it isn’t the same, what I have with Donghyuk.”

Chanwoo blinks rapidly, obviously trying to keep himself from tearing up. “I wanted to be friends,” he admits. “I  _ want _ to be friends. I was a jerk, and I shouldn’t have, have, um, said those things.”

“They were all true,” Junhwe points out, bitter. He’s feeling a little teary-eyed himself. Looking down at the ground, he kicks at the ice under his feet, sending a glimmering piece skidding and shattering against the sidewalk a couple yards ahead. “Everything--uh, I thought about it a lot, and everything you said was, it was true.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Chanwoo says, dejected. “I resented--I still resent you, for leaving me there, for leaving me alone.”

Junhwe looks at him and shrugs. “That just means you know exactly why I left,” he says. “I had it worse than you, anyway. Everyone--even with you--it was terrible.”  _ Everyone hated me, _ he doesn’t say. Now he’s crying, for real, and his tears sting against the cold winter air. “We were more competitors than friends.”

“That’s because you kept pulling away!” Chanwoo protests. “You flinched every time I touched your shoulder, and you didn’t respond to my messages, and your dad would come over and say things like  _ I’m worried about June, his hair is starting to fall out again, _ and you didn’t tell me  _ anything. _ ”

“I couldn’t have,” Junhwe replies, sniffling. “And you know that. You know how you would’ve been, how everyone is.” How no one can bring themselves to care about him, because he’s medalled in international olympiads and he’s a guaranteed Harvard legacy and what does he have to stress about, he’s not mediocre like the rest of them.

Chanwoo doesn’t answer that. Junhwe knows he can’t. Instead, he shuffles closer to Junhwe, noticing his tears. “Are you crying?” he asks redundantly.

“Asshole,” Junhwe chokes out, and it’s enough to transform his tears into this wet kind of laughter, stuck deep within his throat. 

“So were you,” Chanwoo points out. “You were such an asshole.” Then he steps in, a little closer, and gingerly puts his arms around Junhwe for a hug. It’s awkward, and more air than anything else, but Junhwe closes his eyes and lets himself be comforted.

“I was,” Junhwe agrees, wiping at his eyes, hoping they aren’t too red or noticeable so no one will ask about it when he goes back in. “So let’s, uh, try to be actual friends now,” he says, as they head inside for Guts Round. “Not competitors, okay?”

“Okay,” Chanwoo says, easily slinging an arm around Junhwe’s shoulder. He doesn’t shrug it off, mostly because he wants to make it up to Chanwoo, but also because he doesn’t have a reason to be afraid of Chanwoo’s touch anymore. “Why don’t you say hi to the LHS team before guts?”

“Don’t they hate me?” Junhwe asks. He remembers the looks from last year, the resentment and jealousy, all too well.

“They hated you because you were competition,” Chanwoo says, looking at Junhwe earnestly. “You’ve transcended that, now.”

Junhwe flicks Chanwoo’s forehead. “So fancy, using the word ‘transcended’,” he says teasingly.

Chanwoo puffs up, fake-proud. “I know, right?” he says.

Junhwe does end up wishing good luck to Lexington Alpha before Guts Round, as well as whispering advice in Chanwoo’s ear. After he sends Chanwoo off, he finds Jinhwan and the others easily enough.

“How was your relationship talk with Chanwoo?” Donghyuk asks, the perfect mix between mocking and sincere; he’s the only person who knows the whole story. He’s so good at the best friend thing, and Junhwe is suddenly so, so grateful. 

“Relationship?” Jinhwan asks curiously. He’s smiling, but it’s obviously strained. Junhwe will have to ask him about that later.

“It’s nothing,” Junhwe shrugs. “We just got into a fight over winter break. It was--well, it’s fine now, anyway.”

Yunhyeong pats Junhwe’s shoulder and smiles. “I’m happy for you,” he says. “It’s right about time for Guts Round to start, I’d say.”

Donghyuk brightens up immediately. “Let’s go,” he says, excited. 

The Guts Round projects the scores of teams in real time as they solve questions, so it’s always fun to watch the scoreboard as different teams answer problems. It’s a lot more louder and livelier than the Team Round, with runners from each team walking back and forth--“This is a math tournament, not the Olympics,” he hears Hanbin snap exasperatedly at a kid who tries to sprint down the aisle--between proctors to pick up questions to solve and to drop off what’s already been solved. It’s a riot to spectate.

“I can’t believe I missed this last year,” Junhwe whispers to Jinhwan. The volunteers who aren’t actually proctoring are sitting together on the stage, watching as the scores increase steadily. “This is so wild.”

As if on cue, Donghyuk shouts from the other side of him, along with some other Exeter alum (and Yunhyeong, the traitor). “PEA Red Lions are back in the lead,” he announces.

“Why didn’t you come in November?” Jinhwan asks. 

“Uh, I didn’t really want to proctor, and Exeter doesn’t send a team to HMMT November, so Donghyuk had no reason to come either.” Also, I didn’t have any other friends, Junhwe wants to add.

There’s another shout, this time from Jerry (or is it Junhui? Junhwe suspects it’s both). “Yes, High School Affiliated to Renmin University 1 is in the lead!” he whoops. Everyone else stares at him, and eventually Wonwoo slaps his side. 

“Shut up,” Wonwoo says, bored. “No one cares about your school.”

Junhwe watches, fascinated, as Lexington seems to gain rank, slowly and steadily. It even manages to surpass Exeter for a moment--he doesn’t hesitate to rub it in Donghyuk’s face, of course--before coming back down to a solid fourth place finish.

The Awards Ceremony isn’t too boring with Jinhwan and Donghyuk by his side. Yixing delivers a fairly weird ending speech, as expected, and the PEA Red Lions win a ton of awards, also as expected. Junhwe claps the loudest when he sees Pinky come on stage and take her medal for geometry. She’s the one of the only girls on stage.

After saying their goodbyes to everyone, the four of them meet up with Bobby and Hanbin, who were sitting somewhere else due to their status as graders during guts.

“How was grading?” Junhwe asks Bobby. They’re walking down the street in a two by three rectangle, Jinhwan and Yunhyeong taking up the front and Donghyuk and Hanbin arguing about something useless behind them. “Last year, during guts, I’m pretty sure I accidentally kicked my grader twice while ‘running’ back and forth.”

“It changed my life,” Bobby says, serious. His face is completely blank. “It made me never, ever want to proctor for HMMT ever again.” He cracks a smile after that. “It was actually pretty chill, but maybe next year I’ll just watch the scoreboard with you guys.”

“Did you see the placements?” Junhwe says proudly. “Lexington came in fourth for guts.”

“Yeah, that was clutch.” Bobby’s silent for a moment, then he adds, overly casual in a way that shows that he isn’t being casual at all, “For someone who didn’t want to admit he was from Lexington two days ago, you seem real proud.”

Junhwe understands that this is Bobby’s way of showing he cares, half-hidden but no less apparent than Donghyuk’s worry. If he thinks about it for too long, he might start crying, so instead he blinks down at the ground and says, “I talked to Chanwoo today. And, uh, I made up with him.”

“What--what was he to you, man?” Bobby asks, honestly curious.

“Is it that obvious?” Junhwe replies, an answer within itself.

“Kinda,” Bobby shrugs. “He’s also just really good looking, so I figured.” They’ve reached Burton Conner, all six of them heading for the stairwell and walking up.

Donghyuk, overhearing the last bit of conversation, says, “Oh, Chanwoo? He’s hot,” nodding with all the solemn authority of a teenage nerd who has a new crush every couple of months. This is great for them and all, agreeing on the hotness of Junhwe’s friend, but Junhwe just feels awkward talking about his former crush in that light. 

“Uh, I’m just gonna,” Junhwe gestures vaguely, picking up his pace and running up the last flight of stairs, Donghyuk and Bobby laughing behind him. He’s side by side with Jinhwan, now, who’s chewing on his lower lip so vigorously it looks like it’s bleeding.

“Hyung,” Junhwe begins cautiously. “Your lip is bleeding...?”

“Ah,” Jinhwan says absentmindedly, swiping his thumb across his lip. His eyes widen to see blood staining his thumb. “Bad habit,” he says sheepishly, using his other hand to find his keys and open the suite. “Were they giving you a hard time about Chanwoo?”

Junhwe squints at him, trying to figure out what is slightly off with his tone. He shrugs. “I just don’t get why they find him hot,” Junhwe says. No mind that he had thought the same thing a year ago. He’s been converted, okay, and he is a changed man. “It’s kinda gross.”

The others come in after that, a little slow from lingering in the hallway, so Junhwe doesn’t have time to analyze how a myriad of expressions cross Jinhwan’s face, before settling into a small, genuine smile.

“It’s time to sing Happy Birthday to Jinhwan and Yunhyeong,” Bobby announces with a grin. Hanbin groans next him. 

“None of us can sing, Bobby,” he protests. Junhwe nods in agreement. No one needs to know about how he sings Michael Jackson in the shower, okay; some things are meant to be kept secret.

Donghyuk smiles deviously. “Actually…” he begins, looking slightly devious behind his spectacles. “Junhwe used to be part of the chorus in Lexington, right?”

Junhwe winces. He regrets telling Donghyuk anything about his life, ever. “That was only for the art credit, you ass.”

Donghyuk shrugs. “Something seems fishy,” he teases. “You didn’t even graduate high school, so why give a shit about the art credits?”

“ _ EXPOSED! _ ” Bobby howls. Yunhyeong high-fives Donghyuk proudly, and the rest of them laugh, Junhwe joining in with them sheepishly.

“Actually, though,” Hanbin says. “I’m really fucking hungry, so can we get to the food?”

All of them sing Happy Birthday as loudly and out of tune as they can, Bobby squawking about two octaves higher than everyone else just to be obnoxious. Jinhwan and Yunhyeong blow out the candles--both of them are shaped like four’s, oddly enough, a result of scoping out what was on sale in the grocery store--and they settle into formation around the square table again, eating the takeout Bobby brought with Hanbin.

It’s even more crowded than that Friday, Donghyuk squishing in next to Yunhyeong and Junhwe with Jinhwan, Hanbin and Bobby bookending the sides of the table, but it feels nice. Complete, almost. The energy high of a math competition is wearing off, and everyone finishes their food with quiet exhaustion. It’s a nice, lazy kind of tired, and Junhwe feels worn out like his favorite blanket, soft and pliant, as the six of them settle down in the living area for a movie.

“Which movie is it?” Donghyuk asks, interested. Bobby and Hanbin had promised to take care of deciding the movie and obtaining it--through nefarious means, no doubt--insisting that it had to be surprise. 

Junhwe’s seated on the floor next to the couch, head resting between Jinhwan’s legs and lolling back and forth as Jinhwan strokes his head, gentle fingers running through his hair. He’s listening idly in the way people do when they’re half-interested, so it’s a little jarring to receive the jolt of excitement that runs through him at the mention of  _ The Imitation Game _ .

“It’s gay and about math,” Bobby says, as if that explains everything. Which, in a sense, it kind of does. “Also, this is Yunhyeong’s favorite movie.”

“What’s your favorite movie, hyung?” Junhwe asks lazily, tilting his head up to look at Jinhwan. At this angle, he can barely make out the tip of Jinhwan’s chin in the periphery of his vision.

“Hmm,” Jinhwan says. “Inception, maybe?” He sounds sleepy, too. “I don’t mind  _ The Imitation Game, _ though.” Junhwe’s about to formulate a response to that, something about how _ The Imitation Game  _ is one of his favorite movies, too, but he’s cut off by Yunhyeong turning off the lights and the movie starting.

They’re at a bad angle from where Bobby’s laptop is situated, but the audio is enough for Junhwe--he’s seen this movie so many times that he can visualize it, almost, within his head. The tears come earlier than usual, of course, mostly because Junhwe’s anticipating all of the emotions before the events actually happen on screen. 

It’s a silent, slow deterioration--he isn’t sure if anyone notices--and by the time Benedict Cumberbatch delivers his choked “I’m just--I’m so alone” Junhwe is sobbing openly. Bobby stands up and stretches, walking to turn on the lights. 

“That was a good movie,” he says, turning around, “but--what the fuck, Junhwe? Are you okay?”

With the lights on, everyone can see his tear-stricken face--everyone meaning Bobby, Jinhwan, and Donghyuk, Yunhyeong and Hanbin passed out on top of each other on the floor--and Donghyuk says, bored, “Junhwe just gets emotional during movies, it’s no big deal.”

Then, because he’s a great friend, he silently hands Junhwe a tissue, as if he had anticipated this happening. Junhwe dabs at his face, but the tears still come.

“Are you okay?” Jinhwan says softly. He’s running a hand through Junhwe’s hair again.

“Yeah,” Junhwe says wetly, “I’m just--really sad, because, because, he’s, uh, all alone.”

Donghyuk pats his shoulder reassuringly. “What a softie,” he says, shaking his head. Junhwe remembers the first time they watched a movie together--some dumb romance film, because that’s his taste--and Donghyuk had been so surprised by his tears.  _ It’s weird to see you actually feel things, _ he had said.

Jinhwan pats his head, then sits down on the other side of Junhwe, on the floor. Bobby joins him, throwing his legs over Donghyuk and Junhwe’s laps. 

“June,” Jinhwan whispers. All four of them can still hear it. He pats the back of Junhwe’s neck, small hands comforting and warm. “You aren’t, ah, you’re not alone.”

“Not with us,” Bobby adds, looking serious. 

“I--uh, I know that,” Junhwe starts. He’s stopped crying, finally. “I know that, now.” It’s the best feeling in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you read this, ily <3
> 
> p.s. how many ships did yall notice?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes?” Jinhwan looks at him, face blank and tired. He has a bit of stress acne on his forehead and his eyebags are a violent shade of purple and Junhwe’s heart hurts with how much he likes Jinhwan.
> 
>  
> 
> “Hyung,” he says again, running a hand through his hair reflexively. “Just because--you’re used to taking care of everyone else--it doesn’t mean that you don’t need to be taken care of, you know?”

Dinners with the six of them become a weekly habit, and so does studying with Jinhwan. It starts after the next algorithms class, when Jinhwan asks Junhwe if he’d like to study together again.

 

“I mean,” Jinhwan adds, “It was pretty nice last time, and, ah,” he laughs sheepishly, “You’re really helpful, actually.”

 

That’s kind of a lie--Junhwe helped Jinhwan maybe two times, maximum, last week with his p-set--but Junhwe isn’t the type to refuse compliments from Jinhwan of all people. Besides, studying with Jinhwan on today of all days… It feels nice.

 

“Sure, hyung,” Junhwe agrees easily. “Really. It’s nothing.”

 

They exit Building 4 quickly, the winter wind nipping at their faces and their paces in step with each other. Junhwe has been making sure to match his stride with Jinhwan’s, which is harder than it seems.

 

Studying at the Cambridge Public Library is warm and wonderful the way it was last week. Granted, Junhwe does spend an awful lot of time trying to look at Jinhwan without looking, well, creepy, but he does get a lot of work done--he always has, it’s just what he does--it’s just that Junhwe also spends a lot of time staring at the way Jinhwan chews on his lower lip in thought.

 

Jinhwan asks him for help a couple times, too, mostly just checking over errors and proofreading. It’s pretty interesting to see the way Jinhwan’s problem-solving brain works--he usually comes up with much more elegant solutions, but at a slower pace than Junhwe--but it’s also kind of uncomfortable to see how sheepish Jinhwan looks when asking for help. It’s the same air of self-deprecation that Chanwoo held throughout sophomore year of high school, and it’s--sad, for one, because Jinhwan’s amazing at number theory and has the patience for math research and his proof-writing style could be best described as beautiful.

 

Junhwe doesn’t quite know how to say those things, not yet, so all he does is help Jinhwan whenever he needs it and ask Jinhwan for help too--mostly for rewriting his solutions, honestly--the rest of the afternoon spent in comfortable silence.

 

So studying with Jinhwan after becomes a weekly occurrence--right up until the week before midterms. The week before midterms is just a steady ramping up of stress for everyone on campus. Junhwe and Donghyuk had weathered through it fine first semester, but first semester, as freshmen, their grades were marked as Pass/No Record. This semester they have Early Sophomore Standing (it’s exactly what it sounds like--which is to say, all the stress of an MIT sophomore loaded on during the second half of freshman year), which is good because they’ve declared their majors early, but bad because fuck, their grades are going to become _actual letter_ _grades_.

 

Needless to say, Junhwe’s been buying nail polish more often, and midterms resign him to coming up with new ways of stress relief, like painting every odd toe purple, and every even toe blue. He even went so far as to paint Donghyuk’s toes--right after Donghyuk came out of the shower, of course, it would’ve been gross otherwise--in some random shade of pink.

 

Not that Junhwe’s _actually_ worried (he totally is), but he’s been coping pretty well. He can’t say the same for the people around him. The last time he saw Hanbin--the kid’s only a year older than him and taking six courses in one semester like the crazy person he is--he was running on caffeine after an all-nighter.

 

Jinhwan, too, isn’t faring much better. He’s more tired than Junhwe’s ever seen him during their emergency study session, dark circles under his eyes and stress lining his face.

 

It takes around two hours of solid studying, but by midnight Jinhwan’s fallen asleep, his head resting on top of the keyboard of his laptop. Junhwe’s immediately struck by how peaceful he looks, serene and resting in his sleep. Then, he notices the awkward angle that Jinhwan’s neck is in, bent down uncomfortably.

 

Slowly, carefully, Junhwe moves Jinhwan’s prone figure until his head is in Junhwe’s lap. Jinhwan shifts a little in his sleep, but otherwise doesn’t wake up. Hesitating, Junhwe runs a hand through Jinhwan’s hair gently and then goes back to studying.

 

“June?” Jinhwan asks an hour later, waking up from his nap. He’s disoriented and confused, and Junhwe can hear the sleep still coloring his voice. He sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “June, was I, ah, asleep?”

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe whispers. He hesitates, then adds, “You looked like you needed it, hyung.”

 

“I also needed to study,” Jinhwan counters, frowning down at his laptop. It’s kind of adorable, especially since he’s so sleep-rumpled. “Next time, wake me up, hm?”

 

“Okay, hyung,” Junhwe agrees slowly. Jinhwan’s about to turn back to his work, laptop turned on. “Uh, hyung,” Junhwe adds, unsure. He looks down, not really knowing how to phrase what’s going through his head right now.

 

“Yes?” Jinhwan looks at him, face blank and tired. He has a bit of stress acne on his forehead and his eyebags are a violent shade of purple and Junhwe’s heart hurts with how much he _likes_ Jinhwan.

 

“Hyung,” he says again, running a hand through his hair reflexively. “Just because--you’re used to taking care of everyone else--it doesn’t mean that you don’t need to be taken care of, you know?”

 

Jinhwan smiles at him tiredly, a little less than his usual amused-by-Junhwe’s-dumbness smile. “Thanks, June,” he replies softly. For now, that’s enough.

  
  


The next day, Donghyuk comes back from the communal kitchen bearing chocolate chip good luck cookies--one of the seniors, Seokjin, is fucking amazing at cooking--and a bit of news.

 

“Yunhyeong’s inviting us over,” Donghyuk says once he’s finished chewing, wiping his mouth primly. Junhwe wordlessly sticks his hand out for a cookie, and likewise, Donghyuk places one in Junhwe’s palm, no questions asked. “Last dinner before midterms hit and we’re gone for spring break.”

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe agrees, not really listening. The cookie is really delicious though, the richness of the chocolate tempered by the nuttiness of the walnuts and the slight crunch of the cookie itself.

 

“Dude,” Donghyuk says, smiling, “I’m actually pretty excited for spring break.”

 

“What’re you doing?” Junhwe asks, looking up from his work. Talking about what’ll happen in a little more than a week is a great motivator for studying, he finds.

 

“The whole family’s going down to Florida. Yachting, probably,” Donghyuk replies. Junhwe wasn’t even aware that _yachting_ was a verb--it sounds like something one of those Soundcloud rappers would say--and he sighs immediately. “Vacation home, and all that.”

 

“You’re such a posh fuck,” Junhwe says bluntly, rolling his eyes. It’s not like he can say much, being from Lexington--he knows for a fact that his house is valued at $1.1 million--but there’s a difference between the nuanced upper-lower-upper middle class of Lexington and Darien, Connecticut.

 

Donghyuk smiles. “Hey, I’m proud of it!” His smile wavers slightly, though, when he adds, “Don’t tell the others, though?”

 

“Why?” Junhwe asks, confused.

 

Donghyuk fidgets. “I’m pretty sure Bobby’s on scholarship,” he says. “Same with Hanbin, actually.”

 

That alone is enough to shed light on their financial status, especially since MIT is the type of capitalist, elite--he means these adjectives in the best and worst ways--institution to only hand out a scholarship if you’ve lost a limb or something. They call it a need-based scholarship; Junhwe’s mother calls it “making sure we never become millionaires.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Junhwe says. It doesn’t really change his opinion of them, though he’s slightly more gratified that Bobby paid for his frappucino that one time. “How do you know, though?” he asks skeptically.

 

Donghyuk puts his nose up in the air and sniffs. “I can just smell it on them,” he says loftily.

 

“Seriously?”

 

Donghyuk shoves him, the well-perfected balance between “too gentle” and “will have to call 911”. “Dude, of course not,” Donghyuk says, rolling his eyes. “I overheard them talking about it, once.”

 

They sit there for a couple moments in comfortable silence, before Donghyuk asks, “So what are you doing over break?”

 

“Nothing much, just going back home,” Junhwe sighs. “I’m planning to sleep through the whole week.”

 

“Sounds nice, I guess?” Donghyuk tries. “I mean, you miss home, right?”

 

Junhwe scoffs. “Home’s about a thirty minute’s drive from here,” he says. “It’s probably gonna be boring as hell.”

  
  


Dinner at Burton Conner is, as always, really fun and really infuriating. Yunhyeong’s cooked Korean comfort food--kimchi fried rice, bibimbap, the works--and, as much as Junhwe hates to admit it, it’s better than Jinhwan’s cooking. Bobby’s back at the eyebrow-raising game, and Junhwe’s back at trying to ignore him, kind of.

 

“So, guys,” Bobby begins brightly, once they’ve started making their way through the food, “What are you doing for spring break?”

 

Beside Junhwe, Jinhwan groans. “Not this again, Bobby,” he says.

 

Junhwe would turn to look at him, but they’d end up knocking into each other. Instead, Junhwe settles for shifting his head slightly. “What, hyung?” he asks.

 

Bobby looks at Jinhwan, usual grin shifting to something a bit more troubled. “ _Yeah,_ ” he says. “What, _hyung?_ ” And--that’s pretty passive aggressive for Bobby, which is just odd considering that Bobby is the type to wear most things on his sleeve, or at least under it. Junhwe’s pretty sure Bobby’s intentions are shoved in between his ribs or something, this time.

 

Jinhwan shifts uncomfortably, then unconsciously places his left hand on Junhwe’s thigh, as if for support. Junhwe nearly lets out a high-pitched squeak and looks down at his food. _Just eat,_ he orders himself. _Don’t think about how small Jinhwan’s hand is, don’t think about how it’s touching you, don’t think--_

 

“I told you already, Bobby,” Jinhwan says, a little exasperated. It’s a new tone for Jinhwan, dismissive and a little mean, and not exactly a welcome one. He turns to Junhwe, rolling his eyes. “I don’t want to go home for spring break because I’d rather stay here, and Bobby’s on my case about it for some reason.”

 

“But--” Bobby begins. Hanbin, looking more tired than Junhwe’s ever seen him, nudges Bobby gently in the side to shut him up.

 

“Anyway,” Donghyuk says loudly, looking at Yunhyeong next to him. He shoves his spectacles up his nose, the way he always does when he’s agitated. “What’s everyone else doing for break?”

 

“Going back to home, I’d think,” Yunhyeong says, smiling sunnily. “I miss the Texas weather.”

 

“Me too,” Junhwe adds, glumly staring down at his finished plate of food. “Except the weather will be the same as it is here.”

 

“June,” Jinhwan whispers. “Do you want more food?” His hand is absently petting along the inner seam of Junhwe’s jeans, and it reminds him of the fond way Jinhwan had touched his cheek on his birthday, except about a thousand times more sexual. Junhwe isn’t sure whether he wants Jinhwan to keep touching him or not, given how close he is to internal combustion.  

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe whispers back, aware of how close they are to each other. He can feel Jinhwan’s thighs pressing next to his, Jinhwan’s arm brushing against his, Jinhwan’s breath on his ears. It’s terrible, and he has to lean away for a bit to calm his pounding heart.

 

“Ah, okay,” Jinhwan smiles, amused. “How about you go get some seconds yourself instead of, ah, pouting at your plate.”

 

“Wow, hyung,” Junhwe says dryly, already reaching over for some more food. “Okay.”

 

It’s mostly Bobby, Donghyuk, and Yunhyeong who carry the conversation now, with the rest of them adding in their input from time to time. Junhwe’s conversational abilities within a group this large consist solely of sarcastic one-liners, so he’s free to let his mind wander as he shovels down his second helping of dinner.

 

Junhwe can’t help but wonder why Jinhwan wants to stay on campus during spring break. Jinhwan’s devoted to his family, from what Junhwe had been able to make out from Jinhwan’s Facebook posts, and he’s not the type to stay on campus during break. Jinhwan even wrangled his January externship to be in San Diego, only a two hour drive from his home.

 

Junhwe isn’t disappointed the way Bobby is, though; he’s pretty excited. Campus is about thirty minutes away from Lexington, so maybe Junhwe can convince his Dad to drive him there to see Jinhwan for a couple of hours. Maybe they can celebrate his birthday together, or watch a movie, or just do anything together to take his mind off the fact he’ll be in Lexington for two weeks. Or, maybe Jinhwan can come to Lexington with him and visit for a couple of days. Donghyuk had done that during winter break, staying over at Junhwe’s house for four days before leaving for Darien.

 

That would be amazing, honestly. Junhwe just needs to figure out when to ask him.

  
  


It’s only until after their algorithms final that Junhwe has a chance to talk to Jinhwan. After all, they’re all too busy with studying to really talk, and for some reason Jinhwan didn’t ask to meet up for studying again after that time he fell asleep in Junhwe’s lap.

 

“Hyung,” Junhwe says. They’re standing outside, waiting for a traffic signal to tell them to cross the street, Jinhwan probably ready to head back to Burton Conner. “Uh, do you wanna go get coffee?”

 

“I don’t really drink coffee,” Jinhwan admits, putting his hands in his pockets.

 

“Tea? Water?” Junhwe suggests, aware of how desperate he sounds. “I wanted to ask you something.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Jinhwan says easily, gesturing to the intersection. People are starting to cross the street now. “Let’s go.”

 

They walk briskly to the nearest coffee shop--the same Starbucks where Bobby had cornered Junhwe a month ago--in comfortable silence. The snow has been starting to melt, leaving slushy, muddy sidewalks throughout campus.

 

“How many midterm exams do you have left?” Junhwe asks once they’re waiting in line to order.

 

“Is this what you wanted to ask me?” Jinhwan says, raising an eyebrow.

 

“No, no--I was just,” Junhwe says awkwardly. He’s aware, all of a sudden, of the other people waiting in line around them, most of them strangers. He wonders if they can tell how he feels. “Wondering.”

 

“I have one more tomorrow afternoon, but it’s for my english class,” Jinhwan explains, shrugging. “It isn’t a big deal.”

 

“Me too,” Junhwe says, nodding. “I’ve got my last math midterm tomorrow morning, actually.”

 

“You’ve studied?” Jinhwan asks.

 

Junhwe shrugs. “As much as I needed to.” Which wasn’t that much, really, but what Jinhwan doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

 

He waits until they’ve both sat down with their drinks to ask Jinhwan. “So, uh, hyung,” he begins cautiously, looking at Jinhwan. “I know you’re staying on campus during spring break, and I was, uh, wondering…”

 

“Did Bobby put you up to this?” Jinhwan asks, cutting in and frowning unhappily. He taps his fingers against his mouth in thought. “I wouldn’t put it past him, but really--”

 

“What’re you talking about, hyung?” Junhwe interrupts, confused. He runs a hand through his hair agitatedly. He had planned asking Jinhwan so carefully, laid it out all properly in his head, and it had taken five seconds to fall apart. Of course. “All I was doing was asking if you’d like to visit me during spring break, Bobby didn’t tell me to do _shit._ ”

 

“Ah,” Jinhwan says, seemingly flustered. He looks down at his cup of hot chocolate, then glances back up at Junhwe. “I wouldn’t--I wouldn’t mind visiting you in Lexington, of course. Are your parents okay with it?”

 

Junhwe shrugs. “They’re probably gonna love you,” he says. “Especially since you’ve got me calling you _hyung_ and all that.”

 

Jinhwan smiles, pleased. “I’m pretty excited to see Lexington,” he says. “I know a couple kids at LHS, actually.”

 

“I probably--” _Don’t really know them,_ Junhwe finishes in his head. “Nevermind. Why’d you think I was doing something for Bobby, though?”

 

“I thought--Bobby and Hanbin have been on my case, lately,” Jinhwan admits, seemingly uncomfortable to admit that things aren’t perfect as usual with the three of them. “They don’t know why I’m not going back to Fullerton for spring break.”

 

“Why don’t you tell them?” Junhwe asks, only realizing afterwards what a dumb question it is. Jinhwan won’t tell them because he doesn’t want to tell them, of course.

 

Jinhwan smiles, a little sad. “I think they’d be offended,” he says, and he doesn’t expand on his words further. He checks the time on his phone, then stands up from his seat. “I should go now, but you should, ah, message me with details and stuff.”

 

“Okay,” Junhwe agrees, kind of confused by the way Jinhwan had acted while talking about Bobby and Hanbin. It almost reminds Junhwe of himself, the way he freezes up when people mention LHS to him. That conflicted, guilty look on Jinhwan’s face--Junhwe’s no stranger to it.

 

He watches Jinhwan leave through the window, before finally taking a sip of his hot chocolate. It’s cooled down, now. Junhwe exits shortly after, throwing away his drink.

  
  


Bobby calls him a couple hours later, when he’s studying last minute notes before going to bed an hour earlier than usual.

 

“Spending your break with Jinhwan-hyung, huh?” Bobby greets. He doesn’t sound displeased, which is good, but he doesn’t sound happy either, just--bland.

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe agrees weakly. Then, “You aren’t--mad at me or anything?”

 

“No, I’m not,” Bobby says, sounding inoffensive and tired. Dammit, now Junhwe’s been _conditioned_ to prefer it when Bobby’s pissing the shit out of him, and this new version of Bobby is just odd. “I’m just confused, Jesus.”

 

“Hyung,” Junhwe tries. It sounds so heavy on his tongue, and surprisingly, he doesn’t regret saying it. “I don’t know what--what’s wrong, either.”

 

Bobby laughs. “I’m not your hyung, dumbass,” he says wearily. “Have a nice break, and happy early birthday, hm?”

 

“Thanks, Bobby,” Junhwe replies. “Have fun in Fullerton, and, uh, take care of Hanbin, yeah?” He winces at the last remark, but, well--it’s not like it isn’t true.

 

“Yeah,” Bobby agrees. He exhales slowly, and Junhwe listens on for a couple of excruciating moments.

 

They hang up at the same time.

  
  


Junhwe sees Donghyuk off to his cab the next morning, texting him a _haha hf with the rich fucks!_ once he’s at the airport. Junhwe’s midterm goes well, as expected, and he whiles the rest of the day away playing Mario Kart with the people on his floor. It’s loud and lots of fun--of course it is, this is Random Hall--but all the same, Junhwe’s kind of relieved to get a text from Jinhwan that says _they all left, suite’s empty :( wanna come over?_

 

Junhwe ignores his controller for a couple of minutes then watches as his avatar--a cotton-candy blue Kirby--dies within a matter of seconds. He’d been in the lead, but, oh well.

 

“You goin’ somewhere?” Seokjin asks. He’s playing with Mario, of course, focused on defeating whoever’s got Princess Peach.

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe says. “Uh, gotta go, guys.”

 

They all call “bye” after him with different levels of enthusiasm as he walks back to his dorm room, turning his phone on again. Junhwe stares at the seemingly innocuous text before unlocking his phone to type a reply. Before he can, though, Jinhwan tacks on a _for dinner i mean ^^_.

 

junhwe: sure hyung !

junhwe: i’ll be over in 15

jinhwan: :)

 

It ends up being twenty minutes when Junhwe shows up in front of suite 212, mostly because he was debating between two shirts. He ended up choosing the one that showed off his arms, because he has been doing more pushups and pull-ups than usual (the usual being _none_ ) and he wants Jinhwan to notice.

 

Jinhwan opens the door with a smile, greeting him with a soft “Hey, June.” Jinhwan’s wearing an oversized shirt that he’s practically swimming in, collarbones on display due to the large neckline. Barely two or three inches of his shorts peek out from the bottom of his shirt. It’s as blatantly attractive as a bathing suit model, or something, except a thousand times more because it’s Jinhwan and not some random girl posing on a photoshopped beach.

 

“Hi, hyung,” Junhwe returns, stepping inside. He nearly preens when he notices Jinhwan unsubtly taking in his arms.

 

“Ah, anyways,” Jinhwan says, turning to the kitchen and clapping his hands together, “We’re going to make dinner.”

 

“Hyung,” Junhwe says. “I can set the table.”

 

Jinhwan takes the apron out, but this time, he walks up to Junhwe and hands it to him.

 

“ _No,_ ” Junhwe says, staring at the apron in his hands. It reads _World’s Best Chef_ on it, which, no. “Hyung, you’re the real cook. What are you gonna do if--"

 

Jinhwan gestures down at his clothing. "I'm wearing my old clothes for a reason, June," he says, amused. "Come on, put it on.”

 

“Fine,” Junhwe grumbles. His arms get tangled up in it for a couple of seconds--Jinhwan laughs, of course--and yeah, the apron’s a little too small for him.

 

“Turn around,” Jinhwan orders. “I need to tie the back of it.”

 

Suddenly, way too quick to comprehend, Junhwe’s got a small hand settling on his waist and another tying the back of the apron. He can hear the sound of Jinhwan’s breathing, startlingly intimate.

 

“You can, ah, turn around now,” Jinhwan says softly, a little awkward.

 

Thankfully, the awkwardness is quickly dispelled by the dangerous, exciting process of cooking. Jinhwan sets Junhwe on peeling and cutting duty with the vegetables, while he’s at the pot, stirring and frying and doing all of the actual cooking.

 

It’s a lot of fun, actually. Half-way through, Jinhwan decides to play some music--it’s an eclectic mix, Destiny’s Child and Chance the Rapper and a Linkin Park song and a little bit of Drake snuck in--and the sound of him singing (and rapping, which is _hilarious_ ) along is probably the best thing he’s ever heard.

 

Then, the Glee cover of Smooth Criminal comes on--perhaps one of the best covers, ever, of this song--and Junhwe can’t help it. It’s the Michael Jackson fan within him, he swears. He starts singing along too, even though he knows his voice is rough and unpracticed and that he’ll feel embarrassed once the song is over, face turned towards the vegetables he’s chopping up to hide the blush on his face.

 

“Michael Jackson fan?” Jinhwan asks, once the song is over. He’s stopped the music, the phone in his hand. He’s smiling, more happy than Junhwe’s ever seen him, really. The juxtaposition of his smile with his eyebags is a little fascinating. “Or do you just like Glee a lot?”

 

“Michael Jackson,” Junhwe admits with a small laugh. “I used to--I used to wanna be him, when I was little.”

 

“Really?” Jinhwan laughs, surprised.

 

“I took dance classes and everything, when I was younger,” Junhwe says. “I can, uh--I can moonwalk, actually.”

 

“No way,” Jinhwan says, shaking his head in disbelief and looking at Junhwe with a smile. “You’re showing me after dinner, alright.”

 

“Sure,” Junhwe agrees a little nervously.

 

Jinhwan only plays Jackson 5 and Michael Jackson for the rest of the time they spend cooking, grinning at Junhwe every time a new song plays, until everything is finished.

 

Dinner is nice. A little more intimate and a little emptier, maybe. Junhwe just isn’t used to spending an extended amount of time in Jinhwan’s company without Bobby there to raise his eyebrows at him, but spending an extended amount of time in Jinhwan’s company without Bobby is actually pretty nice.

 

“It’s different, hm?” Jinhwan notes, looking around. He’s sitting across from Junhwe instead of next to him, and Junhwe misses the way their legs used to press together at the overcrowded table. “I miss them already, and it’s been, ah,” Jinhwan says, checking his phone, “About five hours?”

 

Junhwe nods, more focused on eating the food in front of him. Jinhwan had cooked the rice to perfection, the curry alongside it apparently being some recipe a roommate passed to him freshman year. It definitely isn’t anything Korean--Junhwe can’t really put a finger on it--but it’s also really fucking good, so.

 

They eat in a comfortable silence. Really, it’s only once they’re settled on the couch in the living area afterwards, thighs pressed together the way they should be, that Junhwe thinks to speak.

 

“Hyung,” he says cautiously. “I was--I’ve been wondering--” he breaks off, unsure of how to continue.

 

“Yeah, June?” Jinhwan prompts, looking at him expectantly. Sitting down on the couch, they’re finally the same height. It doesn’t make him feel like they’re equals; instead, it seems as if Jinhwan is towering over him.

 

“Why--uh, why didn’t you wanna go home with Bobby and Hanbin?” Junhwe gets out. It’s what’s been on his mind for more than a week, really, between coffee meetings and dinners and studying for everything.

 

Jinhwan sighs, fiddling with the neckline of his shirt. Junhwe swallows as he tugs it to put even more of his collarbones on display. It’s as if he can _tell_ how distracted Junhwe gets and is trying to use that to his advantage, but no--that would be too cynical, right? “I’m tired, June,” he admits. Slowly, he leans over and rests his head on Junhwe’s shoulder. “Just want to sleep.”

 

“Okay, hyung,” Junhwe agrees, trying not to freak out too much as Jinhwan nuzzles into his shoulder.

 

“I’ll tell you when we’re in Lexington, how about that?” Jinhwan mumbles. “You can, ah, moonwalk then, too.”

 

“Uh, sure,” Junhwe says. Hesitantly, he runs a hand through Jinhwan’s hair, stroking it gently. “You should--you should go to bed, hyung. And, uh, I should get going.”

 

Jinhwan doesn’t respond for a couple of moments, before getting up and shaking his head as if he’s been underwater. “Hm, you’re right,” he agrees, looking up at Junhwe blearily. “But, ah, you should stay over, sleep in Yunhyeong’s bed.”

 

“Hyung,” Junhwe protests. Jinhwan silences him with a tired, weary smile.

 

“Please, June?” he asks. “I’d like it a lot, if you stayed tonight. It’s--you must be tired.” And what can Junhwe say in response to that?

 

They get ready for bed wordlessly. All of a sudden, the total exhaustion of the past couple of weeks crashes on Junhwe, and he’s the first to get into bed.

 

The last thing he remembers hearing before falling asleep is a gentle “good night” from Jinhwan.

  
  


Junhwe wakes up the next morning disoriented and confused by his surroundings, until he turns his head to see Jinhwan fast asleep on the other bed and remembers everything. Then, he realizes why he’s awake--his phone is emitting Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror” in the loudest volume possible. He scrambles to get out of the bedroom and answer his phone.

 

“Yeah, Dad?” Junhwe mumbles into the phone quietly, wary of waking Jinhwan up. His eyes widen when he looks at the time on the microwave; it’s 11:13 AM.

 

“Did you just get up, June-yah?” Mr. Goo asks, amused. As always, Junhwe speaks in English and his dad responds in Korean.

 

Junhwe rubs his eyes. “Uh, yeah.” Feeling sheepish, he adds, “We were--I’m really tired from midterms, you know?” Thankfully, his dad ignores Junhwe’s slip-up.

 

“When am I supposed to pick you and your friend up?” Mr. Goo asks.

 

“How about two?” Junhwe replies. “We’ll need to get lunch and stuff.”

 

“Sounds good, June-yah.” Mr. Goo pauses. “I’ll see you then.”

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe replies, “See you.”

 

Mr. Goo hangs up after that. Junhwe’s always liked that about his dad, the fact that he’s always straightforward and to-the-point with his calls. It’s not that Mr. Goo doesn’t care about such frivolities like grades and friends and how Junhwe’s doing, but he’s the type to figure out that stuff silently--he’s very observant, honestly--rather than nagging about it.

 

Now, Junhwe’s tasked with waking up Jinhwan. It doesn’t take too much--Junhwe throws the covers off of him and says “good morning” as blankly as is possible--but the sight of Jinhwan, disheveled and sleep-worn, is a lot to bear.

 

“We should have lunch,” Junhwe says, turning away. He’s afraid his face will show how fond he feels. “Or--breakfast. Brunch. Whatever, I’m just gonna--go brush my teeth.”

 

They eat yesterday’s leftovers quickly and wordlessly, still sleepy. Junhwe clears his throat as he washes his plate, then says, “My dad’s gonna pick us up at, like, two today.”

 

“Ah, okay,” Jinhwan says. He looks up at Junhwe and smiles. “I’m going to go pack, and, ah, you should too.”

  
  


Packing isn’t too bad--Junhwe’s long since mastered the art of rolling up shirts to take up the least amount of space possible--and it isn’t too long before he’s in the back of his dad’s BMW, the warm leather seats familiar and welcoming.

 

“It’s nice to see you after so long,” Mr. Goo says, looking at Junhwe through the mirror up front.

 

“It was a month, Dad,” Junhwe says, rolling his eyes.

 

“How were the midterms?” Mr. Goo asks.

 

Junhwe looks down at his nails. They’re naked, as usual, but he can’t say the same for his sock-and-sneaker covered toes. “They were fine,” he says. “I was nervous, a bit--but it was fine.”

 

“Didn’t get much sleep, did you?” Mr. Goo asks lightly. He was probably able to tell how sleepy Junhwe had been when answering the phone earlier.

 

“Dad,” Junhwe protests. “I’ll sleep at home, it’s fine.”

 

Mr. Goo turns his head and gives Junhwe a solemn look. It’s something that can stop wars.

 

“I’d hope so, June-yah,” he says, turning back to the wheel. He starts the car. “Where’s Jinhyung’s dorm?” he asks, eyeing the road.

 

“Jin _hwan_ , Dad,” Junhwe corrects absently. “It’s down the street, and then you turn right.” He leans forward so that his head is next to his father’s, pointing in the right direction.

 

Mr. Goo nods, understanding. “Let him know you’ll be there soon.”

 

Junhwe calls Jinhwan, simply because he knows how Jinhwan texts--only during breaks between tasks. If Jinhwan’s still packing or something, then he would be slow to answer.

 

“Hey, June,” Jinhwan greets.

 

“Hi, hyung,” Junhwe replies. They pause at a stop light, and he can see Mr. Goo eyeing him at the mention of hyung, intrigued. “We’re on our way to Burton Conner right now.”

 

“I would’ve guessed,” Jinhwan says wryly. “I’ll be down in two minutes, how’s that sound?”

 

“We’ve arrived, actually,” Junhwe replies as they park beside the curb. “But you can--take your time, hyung.”

 

“Alright, I’ll be down quick,” Jinhwan says, laughing when Junhwe makes an aborted noise of protest. “Bye, June.”

 

“Bye, hyung,” Junhwe says, and because he’s a little petty he hangs up first.

 

They wait in silence for a couple of moments, before Mr. Goo turns his head to look at Junhwe.

 

“Hyung?” Mr. Goo asks softly, smiling. “I haven’t heard you say that since we last visited Korea.” Which was about a decade ago.

 

Junhwe shrugs, deliberately nonchalant. “Jinhwan likes it, for some reason,” he says. He sounds like he cares a little too much. “Everyone indulges him.”

 

“June-yah…” Mr. Goo begins, looking at Junhwe, “You know that you can tell me--”

 

He’s cut off by Jinhwan’s arrival to the car. Jinhwan opens the door, slides in, and settles his duffle bag on the floor of the car in quick succession, before angling himself towards Mr. Goo.

 

“Hello, Mr. Goo,” Jinhwan says, even bowing his head slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Jinhwan.” He sticks out his hand to shake, and Mr. Goo is obviously won over. At least it took him about five more seconds than Junhwe himself.

 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Jinhwan,” Mr. Goo returns. It’s always a little odd to hear his dad speaking in English after extended periods of listening to his Korean. “Junhwe has told us so much about you--”

 

“Dad!” Junhwe interrupts. Jinhwan shoots him an amused look, then nods to Mr. Goo. It’s weird seeing the way Jinhwan behaves around actual, _actual_ adults, but of course he can only find it cute, along with the rest of the things Jinhwan does.

 

“--But it would still be nice if you told me about yourself,” Mr. Goo finishes.

 

Jinhwan and Mr. Goo make most of the conversation for the thirty minute drive back. Jinhwan’s eager to talk about his math major, and his love of research, and his favorite theorems. Junhwe listens on, silently fascinated by the thoughts and opinions Jinhwan has--he’s never voiced them out loud, at least not to Junhwe, before. The only time he thinks of cutting into the conversation is when Jinhwan asks, “So what do you do, Mr. Goo?” because he knows what his father will reply with.

 

Sure enough, Mr. Goo says, proudly, “I’m a house husband--my wife is a doctor.” Which is true, yes, and Junhwe is grateful for that. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to anything without the steadying presence of his father whenever he’s needed him. But Mr. Goo was also a Harvard math professor, and it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating to see how his potential is lost, it’s frustrating to know that he gave up his passion for Junhwe and Yeijin, and it’s frustrating to realize that Junhwe’s now carrying the expectations of two lives on his shoulders.

 

Junhwe is about to cut in with an off-handed remark, but Mr. Goo silences him quickly with a look through the front mirror. He bites back his words, not ready to swallow them down fully yet.

  
  


“Your house is really nice,” Jinhwan comments as he enters from the garage, duffel bag clutched in both hands. It’s a better response than Donghyuk’s, who had merely shrugged upon stepping inside.

 

“Thanks, I guess,” Junhwe shrugs. “You’re staying in the guest bedroom, uh, lemme show you.” They walk up the stairs slowly, Jinhwan eyeing the pictures that line the walls--a lot of them embarrassing snapshots of Junhwe and Yeijin when he was young--and smiling, amused, at each one.

 

“You have an older sister?” Jinhwan asks as they reach the top of the stairs.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Junhwe says, walking towards the guest bedroom. “She’s a lot older than me so--here’s your room, hyung--so I don’t really see her that much.”

 

“What’s she doing?” Jinhwan asks, entering the guest room. It’s a simple, plain room with hotel-level neutrality. Junhwe’s mother was really proud when she decorated it.

 

“Doctor,” Junhwe replies brusquely. “She’s in med school.”

 

They stand there in silence for a couple of moments once Jinhwan’s put his duffle bag down on the floor, unsure of what to say. Junhwe tries to remember, with a bit of panic, what he did with Donghyuk a couple months ago.

“I could show you around the house, if you want?” he suggests, wincing a bit at how lame it sounds.

 

Jinhwan nods. “Sure, June.”

 

They start downstairs, winding their way through the sitting room, living room, and family room--“So you have three rooms for the same purpose?” / “Essentially, yeah.”--as well as the kitchen before stopping in front of the brag room.

 

“Uh, this used to be the study room,” Junhwe begins, “But as time passed we kinda just put, uh, all of our awards there.” Jinhwan opens his mouth, about to say something, but Junhwe interrupts. He doesn’t like lingering here. “Let’s go upstairs.”

 

“So,” Junhwe says. “This is my sister’s old room,” he throws the door open and points at the pink bedspread, before shutting the door, “and this is my room.” Junhwe’s a little nervous, honestly. He watches, silently, as Jinhwan steps inside and takes in the navy bedspread, the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf crammed with books, the corkboard on the wall above his desk with little notes on it.

 

“It’s nice,” Jinhwan comments, sitting down on the bed. “Ah--is this okay? Some people don’t like it when people sit on their beds.”

 

“Uh, it’s fine,” Junhwe says. He’s inspecting the room, trying to make sure nothing too embarrassing is on display--he can’t do too much about the Star Wars poster--and, fuck--

 

“Is that nail polish?” Jinhwan asks, looking over at Junhwe’s dresser, as if he read Junhwe’s mind or something. He looks at Junhwe quizzically.

 

“Yeah,” Junhwe says, a bit nervous. He doesn’t want to lie to Jinhwan, but he’s also not sure what Jinhwan would think about his weird habits, even if he’s pretty sure Jinhwan would be nothing but nice about it. Ugh. He turns away from Jinhwan to avoid looking at his face. “It’s--it helps with the stress, takes my mind off of it, you know? When my dad was a student in Korea he’d, uh, he’d paint his nails with a clear coat when he was stressed out with his exams. He kinda just passed it on to me and my sister.”

 

Junhwe remembers the first time he saw Yeijin and his dad painting their toes--it was probably when Yeijin was in 10th grade, so he was, what, eight years old?--and it was the first time in a long time he had seen Yeijin smiling, so he knew it must’ve been a good thing. Then, once Junhwe went through his own round of college apps and stressful tests, the tradition was passed down to him.

 

Jinhwan’s silent for a moment. Then, he says, “How come I haven’t noticed? Your nails, I mean.”

 

Junhwe laughs, a short, aborted sound, and gathers the strength to turn and face Jinhwan. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen my toes,” he says.

 

Jinhwan looks thoughtful. “Can I see?” he asks, looking up at Junhwe curiously. Their height difference is only exaggerated by the fact Jinhwan’s sitting--on his bed--and he’s standing.

 

Junhwe hesitates. It’s--it feels strangely vulnerable, showing Jinhwan. Maybe that’s why he takes off his socks and sits next to Jinhwan on the bed, their thighs pressed together comfortably. He likes talking to Jinhwan like this, close and touching. It feels safe.

 

“Ah,” Jinhwan says quietly, looking at Junhwe carefully. “That’s nice.” He nods towards the bookshelf. “You have a lot of good books here, too.”

 

Junhwe squints at the bookshelf. “Half of that’s stuff I read in third grade.” There’s an embarrassing amount of Andrew Clements, all seven Harry Potter books and a ton of sci-fi. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t touched any of it within the last two years, at least.

 

Jinhwan laughs at that. “Still,” he says, stretching lazily. His shirt rides up, and yep--it’s confirmed, Jinhwan has actual abs. “Third-grade-you had a good taste in books. Those were the first ones I read when, ah, moving to California.” Junhwe averts his eyes a split-second before Jinhwan turns to him with a smile.

 

“Do you have, ah, Netflix or video games or something?” he adds. “I heard you were really good at League.”

 

“Oh, it’s just a matter of strategy,” Junhwe says, trying for modesty. “I’m not even that good, compared to Hanbin or Donghyuk.”

 

“Hanbin’s not even that good,” Jinhwan says, teasing. “I’m _so_ going to beat you.”

 

“Hell no,” Junhwe deadpans. “Alright, there’s couches and stuff in the basement so we should play there.” They get up, and Jinhwan follows Junhwe to the basement.

 

“Just so you know,” Jinhwan says when they’re going down the stairs, “I get kind of, ah, intense, when it gets to League.”

 

Junhwe laughs, disbelieving. “I can’t wait to see that,” he says.

 

As it turns out, Jinhwan wasn’t lying. It’s almost scary, how focused he gets while playing. He doesn’t say much, either, but every time he messes up--which isn’t often--he lets out a long, heated string of expletives. It’s fascinating, and surprising, and more than once Junhwe finds himself paying attention to Jinhwan’s minute changes in facial expression as he plays instead of the game itself.

 

Junhwe’s been losing solidly for around two hours when his dad opens the door to the basement, calling out, “Junhwe-yah, your mother is here!”

 

“Okay,” Junhwe calls. He pauses the game, turning to Jinhwan. “You should come upstairs with me,” he says, shrugging. “My mom will probably wanna, uh, interview you and stuff.” He rolls his eyes. “Just ignore everything she says.”

 

Jinhwan raises his eyebrows. “Thanks for letting me know in advance, June,” he says, turning off his laptop. “It’s fine anyways, it wasn’t like you were suddenly going to start winning or something.”

 

“Hey,” Junhwe protests as they walk up the stairs and into the family room, where he can hear his parents talking. “I take serious offense to that--”

 

“June! How are you, how were your midterms?” Dr. Goo greets, throwing her arms around her son and pulling him in for a hug. “And this must be Jinhwan,” she adds, releasing Junhwe from her grip and giving Jinhwan a dazzling smile. “I’ve heard so much about you from Junhwe, it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

 

Junhwe shakes his head subtly at Jinhwan and mouths _She’s lying_. Jinhwan, however, seems to be dazed by his mom’s smile. Typical--all of his friends are practically in love with her.

 

Jinhwan, to his credit, blinks away his dazed look after a couple of seconds and smiles at Junhwe’s mom charmingly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, bowing his head slightly. Then, he looks over at Junhwe. “You talk about me a lot, June? It’s, ah, nice to hear this twice today.” He’s barely containing his laughter.

 

“Hyung,” Junhwe protests, his mom laughing along with Jinhwan. It’s not like he didn’t expect it, but of course Jinhwan gets along amazingly with his parents. Even Yeijin would love Jinhwan, he bets.

 

“Come on, why don’t we sit down?” Mr. Goo says, gesturing towards the kitchen. He sounds a little stiffer than usual in his accented English, and Junhwe is suddenly aware of how often his dad talks to him in Korean, and only Korean. “Dinner’s ready.”

 

The food is amazing, of course; Junhwe’s dad is basically good at everything--it’s always funny to him that everyone thinks his mom is the perfect one. His parents love Jinhwan, and Jinhwan entertains them all with stories from Logarhythms and random anecdotes about Bobby, and Junhwe connects it with the (parent-appropriate) shenanigans he pulls in Random Hall, and it’s nice. Of course, it’s always a little weird having guests over, because Junhwe’s mom actually comes home at a somewhat normal time and they’re actually all eating dinner together, at the _same time_ , instead of Junhwe ambling in after a late night of studying or his mom coming home after a midnight shift, but he isn’t in high school anymore. Things change.

 

After dinner, Jinhwan and Junhwe head back downstairs to the basement.

 

“I don’t wanna play any more League,” Junhwe says idly, lifting up his shirt with one hand and scratching his stomach with the other. He catches Jinhwan looking, and pulls his shirt down immediately--it’s a little embarrassing that Jinhwan saw his belly, a little soft no matter how many crunches he does. “You’re just gonna beat me again.”

 

Jinhwan looks away, swallowing. “We could watch a movie, maybe?” he suggests. “I’m sorry if I, ah, bruised your ego or something,” Jinhwan finishes, with an amused grin that’s more of a smirk than anything else.

 

“Shut up, hyung,” Junhwe replies. He hesitates, then adds, "Actually, I wanted to talk."

 

Jinhwan, who had previously been sitting upright, collapses onto the couch so that he takes up all of it. He's small enough that his legs don't hang over the edge. Junhwe takes the other armchair, and sits.

 

"Junhwe, you can't have it both ways," Jinhwan says, teasing. He's staring up at the ceiling blankly, biting his bottom lip. Junhwe's starting to wish he bought him lip balm instead of a book for a birthday gift.

 

"I know, hyung," Junhwe says. "I'm just--I want to know you better." He runs a hand through his hair nervously, aware of how earnest he sounds. "Please?"

 

"Sure, June," Jinhwan replies easily. "Ah, why don't you start?"

 

"My dad isn't just a house husband," Junhwe says, closing his eyes. "He was a math professor. At Harvard."

 

"I already knew that," Jinhwan replies absently.

 

"Really?"

 

"I've read some of his research papers," Jinhwan explains. "But--June, you make it sound like staying at home is such a bad thing." He sounds a little reproachful, a little scolding.

 

"It's the worst," Junhwe says. He can hear Jinhwan shifting to get comfortable on the couch. "He gave up his life for me, so now I have to do everything twice as better."

 

"He didn't give up his life for you," Jinhwan says. "He just changed it. It isn't like his life is defined by his work."

 

"But now it's defined by his kids," Junhwe says. He makes a little frustrated noise, then adds, "And we're all gone now, and Mom's barely there half the time because of shifts at the hospital, and it's just--it's hard."

 

"You must really love your dad, hm?" Jinhwan says. Junhwe blinks his eyes open at that to find Jinhwan looking at him, something thoughtful in his eyes.

 

"Yeah," Junhwe replies. "It's odd to think of it like that, but yeah."

 

They share a comfortable silence for a couple of moments, before Jinhwan speaks up and says, "Your mom is, ah, really pretty." He sounds bashful, soft and sweet.

 

"I take after my dad," Junhwe says flatly, hoping to elicit a laugh. When nothing comes, he turns his head towards Jinhwan to find Jinhwan looking right back, eyes dark and observant.

 

"You're really handsome," Jinhwan tells him seriously. "Even if, ah, you don't look like your mom."

 

Junhwe's so shocked that he nearly falls out of his armchair, hands scrambling to grip the sides. It's amazing, the effect Jinhwan has on him after a couple of sweet words. "You too," he manages to croak out. "Uh, you're also really handsome," he echoes pathetically.

 

"You know, you don't have to return a compliment every time you receive one," Jinhwan says. Scolds, really.

 

"I'm serious, hyung, you're like--really good looking," Junhwe insists. He's aware that he's digging himself into a ditch, but he cannot let this slide. "Really good looking," he repeats. "Even when you wear your snapbacks sideways." Like a dork, he doesn't add.

 

"That's extremely reassuring to hear," Jinhwan says, rolling his eyes.

 

Junhwe grins. "That's what I'm trying for, hyung." He pauses. It feels like the right time to ask Jinhwan about whatever's going on between him, Hanbin, and Bobby. He doesn't want to ask simply because he's curious; he's also concerned about Jinhwan, about the way he seemed so withdrawn at times while studying. Even before midterms, he would be uncomfortable or suddenly shy away from certain topics.

 

"Hyung," Junhwe begins. "What's going on with you and Hanbin and Bobby?"

 

Jinhwan sighs tiredly. "I figured you would ask me that," he says. "I, ah, honestly feel a little bit ashamed to tell you this." He swallows dryly, and Junhwe can hear his throat working.

 

"It's, it's selfish of me but I don't want you to see me in a bad light," Jinhwan admits. "But I trust you."

 

Junhwe hesitates, before carefully saying, "I want to be someone you can talk to." It feels like something Donghyuk would say to him, as a friend to a friend. It feels like him and Jinhwan are walking a couple steps closer to each other.

 

"Well, ah, I'm," Jinhwan shifts uncomfortably. "I'm a math major, you know that."

 

"Yeah," Junhwe says, prompting him to go along.

 

"And when you're Course 18, either you, ah, take the research route and get a PhD or work in finance, or something."

 

"Yeah," Junhwe says. He wants to work in a hedge fund or something, maybe Jane Street, after graduation. "Okay." He doesn't really see where the problem is.

 

"First off, my parents wanted me to be a Course 6 major," Jinhwan says, frowning at the ceiling. "Like Bobby. And they're okay with the math major, kind of, but they want me to go the finance route like Hanbin. It's just--it's the worst because freshman year I was all alone, right, and I was figuring myself out and trying to find out who I was and what I like."

 

At this, he quickly looks at Junhwe for a second, before turning back to the ceiling and continuing. "And now I'm back with my best friends, who have--they've got everything figured out, and it just feels like I'm always behind, even if I'm a year ahead."

 

"Besides, I didn't want to come home with all of these--this resentment within me," Jinhwan adds. "I love them, love them so much, and feeling like this--towards them--I, ah, don't want to be around them, when I'm feeling like this."

 

"Also, there's the internship applications, and they're both on my case about rooming in New York together. They're back at home, all excited about their summer internships--and, ah, I know their parents, I know my parents. I know they'll be excited and over the roof, and I know they'll turn to my mom and ask, 'What about Jinhwan', and it's better for me to be gone so she doesn't have to reply with some excuse about how disappointing I am to have as a son."

 

Jinhwan exhales deeply, looking as if he's unloaded a heavy weight from his back. "Also, I haven't come out to them," he admits. "If that, ah, counts as a reason."

 

"You're bi, right?" Junhwe asks, more as a courtesy than anything else. Donghyuk had told him already.

 

"I am," Jinhwan says, nodding. He looks at Junhwe carefully. "Ah, and so are you, hm?"

 

"Yeah," Junhwe says. He looks back at Jinhwan, but it's more like he's staring at the heart-shaped mole on Jinhwan's cheek. "I came out to my parents, uh, about a month after I got into MIT."

 

"How did they take it?" Jinhwan asks.

 

"It took a bit of time for my mom to get used to, but she's okay with it," Junhwe explains. "She grew up in San Francisco, so."

 

"What about your dad?" Jinhwan says.

 

"He was fine with it--he started talking about, uh, like the spectrum of sexuality or something, it was kinda interesting," Junhwe says. "I mean, I'm pretty sure he could already tell because of Chanwoo, but--" he cuts himself off. "I mean, nevermind."

 

Jinhwan eyes him warily. "You and Chanwoo," he begins. Then he stops, unable to say anymore.

 

"I liked him, during sophomore year," Junhwe says, looking away from Jinhwan. He doesn't want to see the look on Jinhwan's face. "It was probably the worst point of my life, just because of college apps and all of that." He looks over at Jinhwan, who's tapping his fingers against his mouth in thought. "I don't--not like that. Not anymore."

 

"Hm, okay," Jinhwan agrees, yawning. His arms stretch outwards, hands rubbing at his eyes afterwards, and Junhwe finds it hard to look away. "We should go to, to, ah, sleep."

 

"Yeah, hyung," Junhwe agrees, standing up and stretching. In response, Jinhwan snuggles further into the couch. Junhwe makes his way over, tugging gently at one of Jinhwan's arms. "Hyung, get up."

 

"Don't want to get up," Jinhwan protests, standing up and immediately wobbling forward into Junhwe. His head is pressed against Junhwe's chest, arms hugging his body. It's the most amazing thing he has ever felt, short of eating food.

 

Jinhwan steps away after a couple of seconds and shakes his head at himself, like a dog trying to rid its ears of water. "Sorry," he says apologetically, cheeks turning pink. "Midterms stress, and..." He trails off, a little awkward.

 

"Let's just go to bed," Junhwe says, choosing to pretend that the past minute or so hadn't occurred despite the burning imprint Jinhwan's head had made on his chest. He can still feel it tingling, kind of.

 

Jinhwan reaches up to his cheek and pats it a couple times, fond and gentle. "Sure," he agrees.

 

"Also," Junhwe hesitates. "It's amazing, that you have the patience for research," he admits. "I did PRIMES for a year, and I was so frustrated, because--it's really difficult, in a different way than competition math, and--uh, I guess some people are better at other things, but it doesn't mean that it's not," Junhwe struggles to explain what he means, exactly, "Important."

 

"Alright," Jinhwan agrees, lips quirking up in a tired smile.

 

"You're--you're brilliant, hyung," Junhwe mumbles. He regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth, because, wow, way to be subtle about the crush he has on Jinhwan.

 

It's weird, in a way, because it had started off as a kind of flimsy, shallow infatuation that Junhwe hadn't allowed himself to have during high school. Somewhere along the process of getting to know Jinhwan, he's come to value him so much more as a person. It's weird to think of that time where Junhwe just liked Jinhwan's appearance, because Jinhwan's so helpful and understanding and wry and good, so good.

 

Jinhwan looks away at that, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. "Let's go to sleep," he says as firmly as he can, mercifully ignoring Junhwe's embarrassing word vomit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol merry holidays yall


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter update, sorry :( writing has been hard

The next day begins similarly, Junhwe sleeping in until 11 before being woken up by his dad.

 

"June-yah," he whispers, gently stroking Junhwe's forehead. "It's time to get up."

 

"Don't wanna," Junhwe murmurs, rolling around to turn away from him, and all of a sudden it's like they've returned to Junhwe's high school days, when he could barely get out of bed from staying up late doing math the previous night.

 

"Your mom's downstairs, talking to Jinhwan," Junhwe's dad says, smiling wryly. "Are you sure you want to leave him down there all alone?"

 

At that, Junhwe sits up, grumbling. "Okay, okay, I'll come down for breakfast," he says through a yawn.

 

His dad regards him intently, before nodding. "Alright, June-yah," he says. "Come down quickly."

 

Junhwe rushes through his morning routine--at home, he finally has his full range of "really girly" (thanks, Donghyuk) skin products--before reaching the kitchen as fast as he can. Knowing Junhwe's mom, she's probably telling Jinhwan about every single gross and/or embarrassing thing he did as a child. She did the same thing with Donghyuk, and Junhwe knows for a fact that he doesn't look at Junhwe the same way anymore.

 

In his haste to enter the kitchen, Junhwe ends up skidding into Jinhwan, sliding on the shiny hardwood floor with his sock-covered feet. Given the fact Jinhwan is about half his size, he almost falls over, Junhwe grabbing him by the shoulders at the last second.

 

"Junhwe," Dr. Goo scolds, "You have to be more careful when you're walking around."

 

"You okay?" Junhwe asks. He realizes, belatedly, that he's still gripping onto Jinhwan's shoulders a little too tightly. He lets go and steps away, clearing his throat.

 

"I'm fine," Jinhwan says, eyes glimmering with mirth. "What about you, hm? Your mom told me all about how you fall down the stairs at least once a week."

 

Junhwe rolls his eyes. "That was middle-school Junhwe, okay," he says. "I grew an inch every couple of months, of course I was clumsy." He still is, to a certain extent--he doesn't have the grace of Donghyuk's refined movements or the stability that comes with Jinhwan's lowered center of gravity--but it's nowhere near the time when his dad had to buy bulk packages of band-aids at the nearest CVS.

 

Junhwe's mom turns from the stove, where she's frying a couple eggs. "Your dad's calling his parents," she explains to Junhwe. "Once he comes down and makes french toast, we can sit down for breakfast."

 

Junhwe nods in understanding. It's the Saturday morning routine for his dad to call Junhwe's grandparents in Korea, for them to share what little anecdotes they have over the phone.

 

"Okay, let's wait in the sitting room," Junhwe says. Feeling curiously brave--maybe it's just the fog of sleep still clouding his brain--he grabs Jinhwan's elbow and leads him there.

 

Once they're seated, Junhwe leans toward Jinhwan, eyes widening conspiratorially. "Okay, tell me," Junhwe says in a whisper, afraid. "What did she say to you?"

 

"Who?" Jinhwan asks, confused. "Ah, your mom?"

 

"Be quiet!" Junhwe hisses. "Yeah, her."

 

Jinhwan raises his eyebrows, intrigued. "What does she usually say?"

 

"Things," Junhwe replies darkly, not caring to elaborate.

 

Jinhwan shrugs. "She told me some funny stories about when you were a kid," he says. "Like, ah, the time you wanted to run around naked when you were younger?" He grins. "You were an interesting child."

 

Junhwe flushes on instinct, looking away from Jinhwan's smile. He focuses, instead, on a fairly innocuous part of Jinhwan's left shoulder. "Anything else?" he asks, hardly believing that that was all Junhwe's mom had said. He must've gotten lucky, or something.

 

"Well," Jinhwan looks down, seemingly uncomfortable, "She asked if we were, ah, dating." He blushes slightly, the apples of his cheeks turning pink.

 

"I knew it," Junhwe groans. He collapses back on the coach defeatedly. "Just ignore everything she says, okay, she asked Donghyuk the same thing."

 

"Ah, okay," Jinhwan says, sounding both relieved and something else that Junhwe can't put his finger on.

 

"She seems to think that because I'm bi, I suddenly have twice the number of people I can date, or something," Junhwe says, a little sullen. "Whatever, I mean, it's--whatever." It always feels like his mom is pushing him, to do this, to do that--she was the one who encouraged him in applying to MIT, in trying for multiple olympiads instead of just focusing on MOP.

 

"Okay," Jinhwan says hesitantly. Then, he asks, "Are we doing anything after breakfast?"

 

"There's LMT problem writing tomorrow, and Chanwoo wants both of us to come," Junhwe says. LMT was the local math tournament hosted by Lexington High School. "We can meet up with him today, too, if you'd like." He's actually looking forward to seeing Chanwoo, this time around, having been exchanging texts excitedly for the past month or so. The radio silence between the two of them before February HMMT seems so long ago, now.

 

"That sounds good," Jinhwan nods.

  
  


Hanging out, the three of them, is much less strained now that Junhwe's cleared up everything with Chanwoo. Junhwe knows Jinhwan much better now, too; he isn't as prone to bouts of petty jealousy.

 

Still, Junhwe feels himself stiffen a bit when Chanwoo remarks, offhandedly, "Oh, and Jeongguk is coming too." Jinhwan looks at him curiously, but doesn't say anything else as Chanwoo leads them to the basement of his house.

 

Chanwoo's basement is unequivocally the best place to video games, with its large, projected screen on one wall and plush carpeted walls. Junhwe supposes he shouldn't be too surprised that Chanwoo has invited Jeongguk, too; back when Junhwe still had time for this stuff, the three of them were inseparable. Now, it's just weird.

 

This is mostly due to the result of both Jeongguk and Junhwe's combined awkwardness, which is quickly diffused by Jinhwan. Jeongguk is equal parts charmed and bashful around Jinhwan, the way he usually acts when he's within five yards of a girl, but settles into his usual snarky self after being beaten soundly in League.

 

"Damn," Chanwoo whistles, when Jeongguk whoops rather loudly as he gains the lead, "He thinks he's hot stuff 'cause he's going to prom, right Jeongguk?" He elbows Jeongguk in the side but Jeongguk doesn't reply, too immersed in the game.

 

Junhwe, neither winning or losing, is interested, though. He leans over Chanwoo to look at Jeongguk. "You're going with Jimin?" he asks, impressed. Jimin's the only senior who would even give a second glance at Jeongguk, and Junhwe reasons that his puppy crush must've gotten more obvious with time. "Damn, nice."

 

Jeongguk stiffens visibly, Chanwoo giving Junhwe a harsh, scolding look before pausing the game. "Nah, some senior girl asked him," Chanwoo says nonchalantly. Without the sound effects of the game, the room seems so silent.

 

From the other side of Junhwe, Jinhwan speaks up. "He got asked this early?" he says, disbelieving.

 

Chanwoo shrugs, then throws an arm around a glowering Jeongguk. "He's a hot catch or something, right?" he says. "How's Jimin doing, anyways?" he asks Jeongguk.

 

"I don't know," Jeongguk says, lowly, angrily. He's still glaring down at his lap, stiff under Chanwoo's arm. "He hasn't gone to school for three weeks, now."

 

"What the hell?" Jinhwan asks. He turns to Junhwe. "Is this, ah, normal around here?"

 

Junhwe shrugs, eyes focused on Jeongguk. "Go on," he says softly.

 

"And his parents won't tell me--I'm his fucking best friend and no one knows what's going on--it's." Jeongguk looks up at Junhwe, expression softening slightly. "You get it, right?"

 

Junhwe nods tightly, a quick, sharp motion. He feels Jinhwan's eyes on him, but he betrays nothing, shoving it all aside to make room for Jeongguk. "He got into his reach school, right?" Junhwe asks. "He's not--he has no reason to be stressed out--" he breaks off.

 

Jeongguk grimaces. "He'd been having more and more--you know," he says. Panic attacks, is what Jeongguk doesn't say and Junhwe knows he is referring to.

 

Chanwoo looks between the two of them nervously. Jeongguk collapses against the couch with a sigh. "Enough of that," he says, feigning boredom. "Can we do something else?"

 

"Junhwe says he can moonwalk," Jinhwan says slyly, looking at Junhwe teasingly. "But, ah, he hasn't shown it to me yet."

 

Chanwoo groans. "Oh my God," he says, rolling his eyes. "Don't get him started on Michael Jackson."

 

"He's the best," Junhwe breaks in, mildly affronted. "Why wouldn't you want me to get started on the King of Pop?"

 

"Exactly why," Chanwoo says, gesturing at him as if to say See, he's crazy.

 

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. "Come on, get up," he says. "We can moonwalk together." Junhwe hasn't really thought about it for a long time, but it was actually Jeongguk who taught him to do it, practicing after Mathcounts in middle school with Jimin helping out with a trained eye and kind advice.

 

"Yeah," Junhwe says, awkwardly getting up.

 

Jeongguk fiddles with his phone for a couple moments before Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" starts playing. Suddenly, it all comes back to Junhwe, that dance routine he and Jeongguk had performed for the school's variety show, most of the moves choreographed by Jimin. That had been so long ago--maybe seventh grade for him, when his prepubescent interest in dance outweighed his fascination with numbers. He was good at math, sure, but it took time for that passion to replace what he felt for dance.

 

"Do you still remember the routine?" Jeongguk asks curiously. Junhwe shakes his head. "Me neither," Jeongguk shrugs.

 

Jinhwan and Chanwoo watch with fascination as the two of them try to reenact the variety show performance, most of the moves sloppy and half-remembered. It's a lot of fun, though, to try and make his limbs move in ways they haven't for years. Junhwe had forgotten how much he had in common with Jeongguk before they choose different paths in high school.

 

By the end of the song, both of them have given up on actually dancing, Jinhwan laughing quietly into his hand as they flail around together.

 

"Man, that was fun," Jeongguk says, shaking the hair out of his eyes. "I haven't done this since--" he cuts himself off, instead choosing to smile at Junhwe.

 

"Yeah, I get what you mean," Junhwe replies. Hesitantly, he smiles back.

 

They settle back into the couch, talking about nothing--mostly teasing Jeongguk about prom--and avoiding anything too heavy. Bit by bit, Junhwe's starting to remember why he hates this place, the way people seem to bury their problems under the surface, the way everyone seems so fine at first glance--Jeongguk's going to prom, why should he be sad?--no one really bothering to take a second look.

 

It doesn't take long, after that, for Jeongguk to notice the time--"oh shit, I have Chem homework to finish, gotta run"--and leave. Chanwoo looks at the two of them, gathered in the front hall to wish Jeongguk goodbye, and looks unbearably guilty.

 

"JMO's in, like, two weeks," he says in a rush, looking at Junhwe pleadingly. "And Jeongguk isn't the only one with Chem homework."

 

Junhwe shrugs. "Yeah, I get it," he says. "Uh, I mean, it wasn't like I didn't pull the same stuff on you."

 

Chanwoo laughs at that. "Trust me," he says good-naturedly. "You were a hundred times worse."

 

"It was nice to see you again," Jinhwan says, leaning in for a brief hug with Chanwoo.

 

"You too, Jinhwan-hyung," Chanwoo replies. "Also, nice earring." He points at the silver hoop in Jinhwan's ear. "It used to be something different, right?"

 

"Ah, yes," Jinhwan says, touching it absently. He looks over fleetingly at Junhwe, before saying, "I changed it out a couple days ago."

 

Junhwe blinks at him. He hadn't noticed the change in between midterms and packing and everything else that was going on. For a moment, he wonders if Jinhwan changed it hoping Junhwe would notice, but the thought is so immediately ludicrous that he pushes it out of his mind.

 

"Didn't you always want to get a piercing, June?" Chanwoo asks, turning to Junhwe. He blinks out of his thoughts, startled.

 

"Huh? Uh, yeah, I guess--I mean, it's not that big of a deal," Junhwe shrugs. He had wanted an ear piercing when he was younger the same way he longed for Yeijin's approval and Michael Jackson's complete discography, with the half-heartedness of someone who never bothered trying. "Anyway," he adds, "Bye, dude."

 

Jinhwan and Junhwe step out the door and make their way down the street; Junhwe's house is only a couple houses away. Suddenly, away from Chanwoo and Jeongguk, the weight of the things that were said and the things that were left unsaid seem so heavy in Junhwe's mind. He hates it.

 

"I didn't know you wanted to get your ears pierced," Jinhwan says lightly, as if he can sense Junhwe's darkening mood.

 

"You don't know a lot of things about me!" Junhwe bites out. "I'm sick of people talking circles around me, I just want--" he breaks off, breathing heavily. It isn't often that anger creeps up on him like that, and it doesn't take long for it to subside and be replaced by defeated sullenness and regret for what he just said.

 

Jinhwan looks not just upset, but concerned, too, before he schools his expression into something more neutral. The only thing giving him away is the way he's worrying at his bottom lip, teeth biting and biting and biting. For a couple of moments, Junhwe hates the sight of Jinhwan's bleeding red lips.

 

"Is there a park around here?" Jinhwan asks, looking around. "I think we need to find somewhere to talk, ah, before you lash out again."

 

Junhwe glowers silently and starts walking, a little quicker than usual, aware that Jinhwan won't be able to keep up with his strides. He's quick to catch on, though, easily jogging ahead of Junhwe and stopping him in the middle of the sidewalk, hands on his shoulders.

 

"We should talk about this," Jinhwan says, looking worried. Then his face darkens. "Instead of you acting like a _fucking asshole._ "

 

Junhwe jolts with surprise, as if he'd been slapped in the face. He nods sharply, slowing down his pace for Jinhwan. Somehow, walking this way, adjusting for Jinhwan, has become more natural for him than his usual pace.

 

It isn't long before they reach the playground of Junhwe's old elementary school. They walk as quick as they can through the dead, muddy grass, sitting down next to each other on the swings.

 

"What," Jinhwan swallows, "What, ah, happened with Jimin?"

 

Junhwe exhales. "I don't know," he says. "I wouldn't know--but, I guess--he's always been, a little, uh, worried. Stressed out. It's not--it's not uncommon here, the same thing happened to one of my neighbors when I was little, the same thing happened to--my sister."

 

Jinhwan doesn't reply, just looks down at his hands, listening.

 

Junhwe hesitates. He isn't sure what to say, really, how to put a name to this frustration and anger and sadness. How scary it was to helplessly witness his sister having an anxiety attack, how scary it was to watch her hair fall out every time she tried to brush it, how scary it was to look through her room for a missing book and come across a bottle of pills stolen from the medicine cabinet. It's hard for him to even think about it, but he has to, he wants to, doesn't want to pretend around it the way his parents and his friends always do.

 

"She's better, now," Junhwe continues. "But sometimes--she'd have, uh, panic attacks. Things like that."

 

Jinhwan nods, slowly. "You know," he starts, "When Bobby first told me you dropped out of high school after tenth grade, I was, ah, so surprised. I didn't understand," he says, getting softer and softer with each word, "Why you'd want to miss out on high school--why you'd want to miss out on what are supposed to be the best years of your life."

 

"It's miserable here," Junhwe breaks in. The sun is starting to set, the sky swathed with a mix of colors, orange and yellow and pink and blue, so much blue. "Can't you see, everyone's miserable." He wants to laugh at Jinhwan's words. The best years of his life? These were his worst.

 

Jinhwan looks over at him. The expression on his face is unreadable. "Are you sure you aren't just saying that," he says quietly, "Because you were miserable here?"

 

Somehow those words--You were miserable echoing in Junhwe's head, and it doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like an answer--are enough to set him off. Junhwe cries, bitterly, silently, his vision blurring the sky until it resembles a Monet painting.

 

Jinhwan gets off his swing and tugs Junhwe up too, folding Junhwe in his arms. Junhwe cries until he feels empty of tears, Jinhwan's warm body wrapped around him as best as it can be.

 

Slowly, silently, they make their way back to Junhwe's house. Slowly, silently, Jinhwan's small hand finds Junhwe's, their fingers interlocked.

 

The rest of the evening is spent a lot like last night, except instead of playing League, the two of them simply talk for hours. It's interesting to Junhwe, getting to know Jinhwan beyond whatever comes up during homework sessions and vague allusions made during dinner.

 

Jinhwan's in the middle of sleepily promising him to come with him to get his ears pierced when Junhwe notices the time. Somehow, it had gotten to 2 AM without either of them noticing.

 

"Come on, hyung," Junhwe says to Jinhwan, who is currently lying on the the basement floor. "Gotta go to sleep, it's getting late."

 

Jinhwan groans as he gets up, a yawn escaping his lips. Almost immediately, he stumbles into Junhwe's side.

 

"I'm too, ah, tired to walk," Jinhwan says, rubbing one eye wearily.

 

"Hold my hand," Junhwe says, blushing at his own boldness. "So, uh, you won't fall over."

 

Jinhwan's too tired to be amusedly skeptical; he takes Junhwe's outstretched hand silently and continues up the stairs.

 

Despite how late it is, Junhwe's dad is sitting in the living room as they walk by, reading a book.

 

"Finally going to bed, boys?" Mr. Goo asks. He looks at their joined hands, then at Junhwe's face. _We'll talk later,_ his expression seems to read.

 

"Yeah," Junhwe says, looking away from his dad and focusing on Jinhwan. "He's, uh, really tired, so."

 

"Good night," Mr. Goo says.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what you think, comments and concrit appreciated :)
> 
> support ikon


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